Following the Footsteps
by Anzu Fan
Summary: 2011 ThunderCats. An ordinary guy, going to an ordinary university, getting a crush on an ordinary girl, and taking ownership of an ordinary company. Yeah, right; Lion-O's not normal. And neither are Ome N. University, Cheetara, or Thunder Enterprises.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: No. If the situation changes I'll let the fans know. Nor do I own any songs, brands, or anything else in this.

Um, so…modern AU. No swords, no magic, none of that. Based on my musing about what it might have been like if the story took place in our relatively normal modern world. Well, save for the fact that they're all cats and/or decrepit beings. Give it a chance, it's not nearly so dull as it sounds. Or at least, I don't think so. It started out a tiny drabble, shifted to a short story, into a monstrous forty pages, and then bounded into the monster you shall see before you after a few chapters. I finally decided to break it into a few chapters, and it will be finished soon. I'm also eight pages into the next chapter of 'Where the Roads Intersect,' if you want to know.

Warnings: Lion-OxCheetara, one-sided TygraxCheetara and some other surprises. Kissing scenes. Character death. That's about it.

Oh, Pumyra and Bengali will feature. I don't know what their personalities will be like in the new show, so I'm going to approximate. Well, unless you'd prefer I don't post the story until they show up in the new series, which we know Pumyra will…

This will not be purely fluffy. There will be emotional highs and misery. As in the show, certain characters are occasionally dealing with inferiority complexes. If you have the emotional range of a thimble or think that people or characters that have such complexes are just whiny, you're welcome to leave.

Lion-OxCheetara…I like it. Sorry Tygra, but I've favored my OTP since the old series reruns on Boomerang. The creators can play up the "crush since adolescence" card all they want. Sheesh, if I ended up with who I had a crush on as a kid…whew, not pretty. I have other reasons as well, but that's not the point of this little story. Or is it?

To rather more gung-ho TygraxCheetara fans, please don't send in notes accusing me of being an idiot for not liking the pairing. This is not meant for all of you, only a select few I've seen around on the web. Thank you.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all.

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><p><strong>Filling the Footsteps<strong>

_"Oh, let the rain keep falling down. Cause it won't stop me from getting where I'm bound. Maybe I'm crazy, maybe it's too late. But I'm gonna make it; don't care what the skies say. So oh, let it rain…let it rain."_

_Let It Rain, Kris Allen_

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><p>It surprised everybody when he graduated midterm with a 3.9 at seventeen.<p>

Anybody who knew Lion-O knew that while he was smart enough, it was Tygra who was the over-achiever who had graduated valedictorian three years ago. At sixteen. Being the Student Council President. With a full ride to college.

Oh yes, Tygra was the talented one. Skipping grades was normal, winning the debates in speech class was ordinary. Oh, not to mention having so many girls sending him candy grams on Valentine's Day that he probably could have fed a neighborhood at Halloween. He was intelligent, confident, and attractive. Voted most likely to succeed in middle school and everything.

Lion-O had won nicest smile when his time came around. About the same time that his brother had been glancing over prestigious universities. Dad had given him an approving look before leaving for his flight to the next meeting. Thunder Enterprises couldn't run itself, and several other companies – namely Lizard Co. – had been trying to get some deals under the table to increase production for half the cost.

Nobody beat Thunder Enterprises when it came to putting out the best gadgets and computers. Not when his dad was around. He was a huge lion, and looked totally out of place in a suit; a wrestling ring might have been a more fitting place. He snapped his fingers and people heeled.

And of course, Tygra was his pride and joy. Never had there been a dad prouder of his son, and never had there been a son so pleased to earn his paternal figure's praise.

Lion-O…well, Dad loved him. Went to ball games for him. Made it through his kindergarten graduation ceremony. He loved him plenty. But that didn't mean he praised him much.

He loved Tygra more.

Not that Lion-O ever said anything like that; it was just impossible not to notice that, at the very least, he was far prouder of his adopted son. But Lion-O had never been the type to be all, "pity me with my daddy problems." Tygra always told him he'd never earned a thing.

Well, he couldn't say that now.

The streets were dirty and he felt very small on the sidewalk. Aside from his luggage case, backpack and the little brief case in his left paw, he was all alone on the pavement. Unless you counted the dozens of strangers giving him weird looks.

He glanced to his left and to his right. Buildings streamed from the east to the west. Aside from a little sandwich vendor and newspaper stand on the street, nothing seemed very interesting or out of place. Well, there was a bar, but he was underage and didn't drink anyway. And there was a bum on the street who was begging for loose change. He felt a little bad for him but tried not to let that softer side of him win out. This city was supposed to be brutal, and any detected weakness would result in being torn apart and devoured. Not literally, though that wasn't impossible…

Somebody rudely shoved against his back and he instinctively clutched his luggage closer, against the shelter of the paper stand. In retrospect, coming to Tretierra City without calling Tygra to pick him up probably hadn't been the brightest thing he'd ever done.

But wasn't that the point of this lunatic venture? Proving he could do this? Proving he could be just as good as his prodigy brother?

Another person bumped against him, and he flinched – unless he was very much mistaken, they'd just run their claw creepily along his back. It was impossible to tell who it had been, but suddenly he wished his blue turtleneck was a little bit thicker. They had gone, and he was very glad he'd elected to keep his wallet inside his shirt – in a little pocket he'd sewn on the inside just for this occasion – rather than in his jean pocket.

He'd done it on the quiet; application after application, part-time job after part-time job, he'd made it. Afraid his dad and brother would try to dissuade him, he hadn't mentioned leaving until two nights ago. There, in the middle of dinner, while passing Dad another bread roll, he'd dropped the bomb.

"_I'm leaving for Tretierra. I've been accepted to Ome North University into their business program."_

_Nobody had said a word for thirty seconds. Tygra was home for the week, so it had been hard to avoid looking at him across the table. Even harder was simply looking at his dinner plate as if he'd just mentioned the weather. He picked at the potatoes and focused in on the while tablecloth._

"_You're kidding, right? I mean, graduating salutatorian was great, but…" Tygra said slowly, as if probing to see if he was really being serious. Lion-O let his eyes flicker toward him._

"_I got the acceptance letter yesterday. They're even letting me transfer some advanced placement credits over so I can skip some gen ed courses." The temptation to look over his dad was huge, but he didn't dare, nibbling at a piece of lettuce from his salad._

_He felt them exchange glances. "Ome N. is a pretty expensive school, Lion-O. I'm proud that you managed to earn a place there-"_

_Price would have been no object for a good education, but Lion-O knew what his father was dancing around saying; if he ended up cracking under pressure and leaving the university, it would be a waste of tuition. He swallowed the bite of lettuce. "They awarded me a scholarship because I graduated salutatorian so early. The tuition for the first two years is paid for by the scholarship, along with a dorm, and they've guaranteed me a job at the campus bookstore because I'll be moving away and applied so early. I've saved up enough to live on for five months so far."_

_Again they exchanged glances, this time looking stunned. He had given up not looking at them, glancing between them, checking for their responses. "How long have you been planning this?" Dad asked, eyes piercingly bright._

"_For a few months. It's a pretty prestigious place, and I figured if any place can help me get the skills I need to run a business when I'm older, Ome N. is it." His brother's face was unreadable, and his dad put his chin on his paws, interlocking his fingers._

_The fact that the company was always handed down through the family had been a thing of much controversy for generations. Even back in the eighteen-hundreds when it had only been putting out things like furniture and machine parts, the founder Leo had passed the small company on to his firstborn son, who had passed it on to his son, and so on until it had been passed to Claudus. And Lion-O knew that nobody thought that tradition ought to be adhered to any longer, save his dad. He would never break the line._

_But Tygra was already well into his studies, and everybody knew how brilliant he was. Employees muttered and other executives plotted; if Tygra, against all odds, took over when Claudus stepped down, they would have competition indeed. But the lion cub, _well_. They would snort with relief. He was all daydreams and flights of fancy._

_He had ideas. Big ones, about better technology. Stuff that pushed computers to their limits; hover technology, virtual systems. Things that only a decade ago were considered impossible. He wanted to do things differently. And everybody thought he was an immature kook for it._

_He wasn't going to be the Hobson's choice. Not this time._

_It wasn't that he didn't want Tygra to be successful; he did. It was just...he wanted to be the best option for once. The one his dad would actively pick because he was _the _best cat for the job. Or at least equally as good as his brother._

_Just once. Just _once_._

"_Are you sure about this, son?" Claudus had looked worried, and Tygra had looked calculating, searching his eyes in silence._

_Lion-O took a breath and let it go. "I'm sure. I pack tomorrow morning and leave late tomorrow night on a plane."_

"Aw, come on! Please?"

He was jolted out of his reverie by a loud, plaintive wail. Hunkered beside the newsstand, he could smell the sandwiches the vendor was selling, and wince; they smelled greasy, and the vendor was a squat, sour-looking tabby. The cries were coming from a kitten in front of the counter, about eight years old, with tawny eyes and a bushy tail. His t-shirt and shorts were a bit ratty, flapping around his arms and knees as he meowed. "Old Jorma always gave us a sandwich to split!"

"Little urchin, if you don't leave now, I'm calling the authorities. Jorma's headed south, and I'm in charge of the stall now. And I can't just give away food to any brat that asks." The sheer meanness in his voice made Lion-O stare.

"Please? Just one?" A girl kitten had appeared beside the boy, her ears bound back in a ponytail and her tail sinking lower every second. "We've got a dime and a quarter. Can we pay you back tomorrow?"

The tabby shook his head. "Why aren't you two in the foster system? You can't have parents that let you run around like this, begging." The two mouths grew thin and tight, and they gazed pleadingly upward.

Lion-O scanned the prices. Two dollars per sandwich. Four dollars…he had that much to spare. Even if he hadn't, the hungry, pinched faces made him feel a little sick. Keeping a careful eye on his luggage, with nimble fingers he managed to slip a five out of his wallet by reaching into his shirt. Without ever removing his wallet, he pulled his paw back out surreptitiously. Dragging his case, he stopped before the vendor, feeling a little self-conscious. "Here. What kind do you want?"

If he'd felt self-conscious before, he felt outright embarrassed when the vendor gave him a look that obviously indicated he thought he was an idiot. The kittens were giving him weird looks too, as if trying to judge whether he was playing a joke on them, or worse, some kind of horrible person. His stomach curled; was an expression of generosity so rare here? Maybe it was the turtleneck. It was kind of a fashion faux pas anymore(1). "Seriously." He handed the tabby the five. The clever eyes met once, somehow seeming almost telepathic for a moment.

"Um…just two of the chicken." It took about a minute to prepare the sandwiches, which was enough time for Lion-O to realize people were staring at him. Ten minutes in Tretierra and everyone already thought he was nuts. Not the best start in the world. When the tabby handed over the sandwiches to the kids, he put the change in Lion-O's paw without a word. Lion-O in turn just handed the quarters and nickels to the girl kitten.

"Here." With that – and feeling entirely too many pairs of eyes on him and feeling awkward for it – he hefted the pack on his back and dragged his luggage along behind him, suitcase in his left paw. People drifted to each side, parting for him like the Red Sea along the sidewalk.

He was in a strange, dirty city utterly unlike his home town of Pantherle. People looked at him like he was crazy for buying kids food. The streets all looked the same, and he was lost.

At least he'd helped some kids out. That was something. Even though he'd tried to convince himself being too nice would be really bad.

Well, whiskers.

Something nudged his arm. "Thanks for the food, mister. Nobody ever does that on this side of town." Lion-O glanced down; the boy kitten was chewing on the thick sandwich, keeping a careful grip on the foil that held it. Trotting along beside him, the girl was also munching on her sandwich. "What's with the packs?"

Lion-O debated answering them honestly. Deciding finally that they were harmless kids – and he had to talk to somebody for directions – he said, "I moved here. I had to pack my clothes in something."

"Why did you move to Tretierra? Most nice cats don't live here." The girl spoke now, darting easily in and out of the people as he forged through.

"I'm going to school here."

"Why?"

"Because the schools here are supposed to be really good."

She nibbled on the sandwich a little more. "Are you lost?"

He didn't reply, and she glanced around him to look at the boy kitten. "I'm Wilykit, and this is my brother, Wilykat. We're twins."

"Yeah, I can see that." Should he tell them his name? He didn't want to think it of them, but he'd heard of pickpocket kids being hired by criminals to steal from tourists who came to big cities. Shoot, he needed to remember this stuff if he was going to live here.

"We know somebody who can help you get settled in, if you want. They'll tell you about town. It's the least we can do to say thank you. They're nice, like you. They look after us whenever we go ask for help." She held onto his arm and tugged gently on it. He slowed to a stop, examining her face for any sign of dishonesty.

"If there are people who look after you, why are you begging for food?"

"Because we don't officially live with them. We'd have to get into the foster care system for that, and we won't risk getting separated. The system here sucks really bad. And they don't have much room; they run a veterinary clinic, and it's always packed with animals. So we don't like to ask them for help all the time." Wilykat was hanging on to his other arm now. Lion-O looked from twin to twin, uncertainty growing.

"Thanks for the offer, but…"

"Come on! Pleeease? They're really nice, scout's honor!" Kat paused. "Well, okay, I'm not a Cub Scout. But I always wanted to be. They'll help you out."

Perhaps it wasn't wise, but he let them lead him several blocks, trying to memorize the route they took and keep an eye out for any suspicious activity. The sounds and smells of the city – car horns, shouts, claws clicking against the pavement – were distracting, so it was hard to figure out where he was going. It was in front of a pale, small, relatively neat little building that the kittens stopped. "In here." Both pelted for the door, and Kat held it open for his sister, and then looked at Lion-O.

Going into a strange building following kids he didn't know. Well…it was well lit, and he had a decent right hook. Feeling incredibly stupid and a little fascinated, Lion-O stepped past the glass door and looked toward Kit, who was talking to somebody sitting across the room at a desk with files in front of them. The person looked at him, and he felt the bottom of his stomach drop out as his paws instantly got sweaty.

She was frankly the most gorgeous cat he'd ever seen. Lean and older than him by probably two years, she had blond hair that swept neatly over her back, spots marking her arms over golden fur. Her pale face was exotic, and she had rosy markings around her eyes. Beautifully feminine, she wore a brown blouse and black dress slacks that accentuated her hips neatly.

Oh, whiskers. His mouth had dropped open. Lion-O shut it instantly, pretending to look at anything and everything except this jaw-droppingly beautiful lady. Suddenly he felt dorkier than ever in his blue turtleneck and ripped-up-knee jeans. "He got us some sandwiches. Jorma's not running the stand anymore, and the new guy apparently hasn't heard of generosity."

"I've told you to come here whenever you need money, guys. Why you don't just live here I don't understand." She examined him again. "You say this guy got you something to eat? Did you say thank you?"

"Yeah. He's new here, and he's really nice. Isn't he cute?" Kit said baldly. Lion-O tried to keep himself from turning red when the cheetah smiled at her indulgently.

"Does this friend have a name?"

"We didn't ask. Hey, what's your name?" Kat asked, popping up beside him.

"Oh. Uh. Lion-O. Lion-O Rey. And you are?" he asked. She stood up and he noticed that she was a couple inches taller than he. Stepping out from behind the desk, she shifted her weight gracefully as she trotted toward him.

"Cheetara Clera. Co-owner of this establishment." Cheetara smiled and he hoped she couldn't see him sweat. Girls had never been his forte as he'd always been a little too geeky for them. That and any girl he'd ever met had been swooning for his brother. It didn't help that this was the most gorgeous girl he'd ever seen in his short life. No, take that back; this wasn't a high school girl. This was an adult, a woman, and she made him feel like a freshman in high school all over again. "Kit says you're new around here?"

"Yeah. The kids were trying to help me get some information about the city. Sorry to bother you," he said, twitching when he heard a loud yowl coming from the hall beyond the desk. Cheetara glanced back, exasperated.

"Not at all; hang on, let me just check on something." She darted back, toward the doorway into the back of the building. "Jaga! You okay!"

"I got Snarf's claws and fur trimmed, and he's finally clean. Keep him at the front desk with you for a bit." The old, slow voice seemed to excite the children, who dashed after Cheetara, leaving Lion-O quite alone in the room.

"Old man Jaga! Hey! Come meet Lion-O!"

"Who?" The cat shuffled out from the corridor, fixing his pale gaze on Lion-O. He was wearing a clean white smock with a black sweater under it, and a red creature was held firmly by his right arm. His hair and beard were pure white, but there was something clever about his face. He seemed surprised. "A lion? Hm. That's not something you see every day."

Cheetara drifted after him, taking the wriggling red beast from him. It seemed to calm marginally in her arms. "His name is Lion-O Rey. Don't you know somebody by that name?"

The old man's face lit up and he strode forward until he was nearly nose to nose with Lion-O, who twitched backwards. "Good grief. If you don't have your mother's face and your dad's eyes, I'm a leopard. You're Claudus' boy, aren't you?"

Surprise and relief battled inside him, and Lion-O set down his suitcase slowly. "You know my dad?"

"Certainly; we've been friends for years. I'm not surprised you don't recognize me. The last time I saw you was when I was visiting him fourteen years ago. You know."

When Mom died. Lion-O remembered the date but not the funeral. It was nothing more than the sense of being confused when Dad started crying when he asked why Mommy wouldn't be around anymore. And being lifted up so he could give her a kiss in the casket, wondering why she was sleeping in a big box.

"Right. Sorry, I don't remember much from that day." Jaga nodded knowingly.

"I suppose not. Well, you've grown into a strapping cat. How's that brother of yours? And Claudus?"

Lion-O realized the kittens were listening, and he had to fight to keep himself from glancing at Cheetara repeatedly. "Tygra's good. Studying at Tygus University. And Dad's the same as ever."

Jaga eyed him. "That university isn't too far away. Is he coming to the city to pick you up?"

"No. I…kind of wanted to get the feel of the city myself." He hoped the stiffness in his spine wasn't too noticeable. The jaguar's gaze was probing, entirely too knowing. "I sort of know where the campus dorms are."

"Did you say 'Tygra?'" Cheetara spoke, and Lion-O felt his heart start sinking into his stomach. "I know him. I met him at the public library a few months ago. He's your brother?"

Lion-O smiled. It hurt. "Yeah. Adopted, obviously, but we've grown up together. What was he doing?"

"Studying for his English 400 course exam. I couldn't believe he was already so far into his schooling. He's only nineteen, right?" He'd just met this girl; why was he so disappointed that she'd already met his brother?

"Yeah. He's the smart one." She tilted her head, eying him, and Lion-O felt her gaze like a laser.

"But you're a couple years younger than he is. You're already in college? And Ome N., at that?" Lion-O blinked a couple times at the slightly impressed way she spoke. She lowered the beast – Snarf? – to the ground to let it roam.

"Uh. Yeah, I graduated midterm to come here."

"Nice. You must be pretty smart too, then." The pleasure at being complimented in the same breath as Tygra was a surprise. More of a surprise was the warm, rubbing sensation along his calf. He glanced down to see Snarf winding around his ankles, meowing. Cheetara and Jaga exchanged glances when he hesitantly stooped to pet it.

"What is this thing?" he asked. It wound its tail around his leg and reared up to put his front paws in Lion-O's paw, as if greeting him.

"No idea. Somebody brought it in because it was begging around the neighborhood. It hasn't stopped squalling since then. We've been calling it 'Snarf' because that's what it seems to be saying." It most certainly wasn't squalling now. "It likes you." Cheetara suddenly sounded a lot closer, and Lion-O looked up, nearly knocking their heads together. Trying not to blush, as that would have been high on the list of embarrassing things he'd done in his life, he averted his gaze again. She was looking down at the creature, who keened happily when Lion-O scratched under his furry chin.

"Huh. That's weird. I've never had a pet before."

"You want him? He's a pest when he won't stop yowling, and this is the first time he's been quiet in two weeks." Jaga's voice was not unkind, but he seemed very fed up with the creature. It hissed at him and purred into Lion-O's ankle.

"Well…I mean…I…"

"Please. I'll even give you a bag of kibble. Free checkups when he needs them." Jaga paused and added lightly, "It'd give you a good excuse to come see my granddaughter Cheetara."

"Huh!" Oh shoot, he felt the blood rushing to his ears. That was the problem of having pale fur on your face, everybody could see when you were embarrassed. "I-I don't, er, I mean-!"

Cheetara was smiling. "You've embarrassed him, Jaga." The old cat shrugged, and Wilykit giggled and made kissing noises. Snarf scowled. "Really, you don't have to if you don't want to. I don't know if the dorms permit pets anyway."

Was that a little disappointment in her eyes? Snarf let out a wail of despair. Lion-O thought about for about three seconds before saying, "Is he house trained?"

The admiring glow and way her mouth curved in pleasant surprise was something he never could forget.

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><p>"So, these deluxe accommodations are, according to Jaga, as old as he is. Not to say they haven't been fixed over the years, but…well, they're not exactly homey. They put freshman through the worst dorms, and they'll let you upgrade if you keep in with good grades."<p>

Lion-O tried not to brush against her as he opened the window. Well, the view of the windows next door were lovely. He could see straight into the building beside his. And…were the people over there smoking something that looked suspiciously illegal(2)? He shut the blinds. "Well, that's interesting," he muttered to himself.

The room was small, more like a big cardboard box than a room. Of course, he'd expected that. He had not, however, expected it to smell like cardboard.

Old, dusty cardboard.

"It's not so bad," he said awkwardly, setting his case on the bed. It at least was clean. Snarf had clambered on to it, and settled himself down comfortably. "Thanks for showing me the way. Have you come here often?"

"Only because Jaga used to teach here. He used to bring me on the weekends because he was paranoid about sitters, and he had some Saturday classes. Then we used to eat in the cafeteria, and we'd feed the squirrels on campus. They're huge."

He'd seen one on the way in. It had been red, and so fat that he rather feared for Snarf's safety. Cheetara moved to glance out the window but he automatically put out a paw to stop her. "I don't think you want to do that."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure whatever they're doing is legal," he said finally. Confused, she peeped through the blinds before blinking.

"Ah. Well. At least it'll be interesting, living here."

"Yeah." He realized that he'd taken hold of her paw to stop her, and he let go quickly when he saw her glance at their paws. From above, the sound of somebody singing off-key suddenly came through, loud and wailing. They both looked up, and Lion-O felt one eye twitch incredulously. "Is that N'SYNC?"

"No, that's Backstreet Boys. 'Quit Playing Games With My Heart,' if I'm not mistaken," she said mildly. They looked at each other and Lion-O laughed once, shaking his head.

"Questionable substances and Backstreet songs. At least I'll never get bored." She'd laughed too, and the sound made that crumbly, stale little room seem a little better.

He had repeatedly said that Cheetara didn't have to help him find his dorm. She had repeatedly – and subtly – ignored him. As it turned out, a ten minute bus ride was all that separated the vet clinic and his campus, which he was secretly pleased about. What he wasn't quite so pleased about was the fact that she was helping him unpack and had a way of helping without listening to his half-hearted protests. It was really nice of her, but…well…he had personal things in there.

And she'd just found one from the looks of things. "Aw, what's this?" She withdrew a brown bear, a little tattered and missing a button eye. "He's so cute. An old toy?" He took it carefully, blushing furiously as he set it gently on the tiny bedside desk.

"Yeah. Doofle. He was the last toy my mom gave me. I like to keep him around."

She didn't snort or laugh. "I have a Barbie my parents bought me for my fifth birthday. She's missing most of her hair, and she's got blue crayon lipstick, but other than that she's in good condition." Lion-O chewed his lip and removed a couple of shirts from his luggage case, debating on asking certain questions.

In the end, he decided to. "So…Jaga's your grandpa?"

"Adopted. Mom and Dad died when I was six, and he was a friend of the family, so I went to live with him." The mild, almost conversational way she said it made him blink, and he fought to keep his ears from dipping in mortification.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

"You weren't prying. You were perfectly courteous in asking." Other than perturbing him in her simple way of seeing through his attempts at learning about her, she also made perturbed by going back to his suitcase. "Superman fan, huh?" Oh dear, he'd forgotten those comics.

Lion-O felt like he was about to die of embarrassment. "Just a couple of the first issues. Um, I really appreciate the help, but-"

"I could unpack your underwear, if that would embarrass you less." The very thought made him look away.

"Are girls even allowed in the boys' dorms?" It had quite surprised him when Jaga had permitted Cheetara to show him around the dorms and campus. True, she wasn't a delicate woman – she had the physique of a sprinter and even through her skirt he could see the delicate, precise muscles in her calves – but he wasn't exactly a complete pushover. Even if he was Claudus' son, the trust Jaga had shown was almost silly.

Maybe his slightly awed admiration for her was making him too obvious. He tried not to stare at her. Lion-O had the strangest sense she knew what he was thinking, and knew that he didn't quite have what it took to be rude and tell her to leave.

If he was honest with him, he didn't want her to go. But he did want her to quit unpacking his things before she found anything else embarrassing.

"Sure. And vice versa. They won't risk losing tuition by forbidding illicit nighttime activities and expelling the kids who partake in them." Wry and little annoyed, she continued shifting through the items. "Wow. What are these?"

He caught sight of them and broke out in a shocked sweat. "That's nothing." He snatched the papers and diagrams as politely as he could from her paws and slid them under his bed. "Just, uh, ideas. About stuff."

"Ideas about stuff," Cheetara repeated. "That's specific."

He paused on the ground, fingers still touching the papers. Meeting her gaze, and feeling nervous, he looked back at the pages before saying, "You won't laugh at them, will you?"

Curious, Cheetara sat down beside him. Snarf peeked over the edge of the bed, tail swaying. "No, I won't. What is it?"

Knowing full well that this would push him well and truly into cuckoo territory as it had so many times before, Lion-O pulled them back out and prayed that she would be different. That she wouldn't give him the glance out of the corner of her eyes. Or worse, the, "I'm-going-to-smile-and-nod-and-twirl-a-finger-next-to-my-head-the-instant-I-think-you-can't-see-me-even-though-you-have-two-eyes-that-work-perfectly-well," response syndrome.

It had happened three times before. The first was his brother. The second was a girl he'd liked who had agreed to be his partner for a science project. The third had been a waitress who had asked him why he was playing tic-tac-toe with himself on a napkin with a bunch of weird letters. He'd tried to explain some of it, and she'd given him the formulated response. Lion-O didn't really want Cheetara to do the same thing, not when he had already started to like her like the doofus he was.

"They're ideas for technology. Gadgets. Utilizing Thundrillium." He unfurled them in front of her, and saw her irises flow along his chicken scratch handwriting and precise diagrams and sketches.

"Thundrillium? You mean that new element they discovered three years ago? How do you figure that? I haven't heard of any uses for it."

"I know. I'm kind of hoping to find people who know more about it while I study here since I barely know much about it myself. But from what research I've done, it sounds like there are all sorts of things we could use it for. Clean energy, for example; the stuff forms very quickly, and it doesn't let off pollution when it's burned. If we can make technology that can break it down into energy, think about the possibilities." He pointed to one of his more finished drawings. "Hover technology, for example. They've been working on it for years, but they've never found anything that has enough power to keep anything heavy in the air. Thundrillium has tons of energy in it from what I've studied, only it can't be harnessed as it is. But imagine what that could do! I mean, more efficient transportation, cleaner energy, a renewable source…if only we can make it work! And if one machine can run off it, I'm sure it'd be possible to construct more. Nobody is bothering about Thundrillium because it's so new, and nobody really cares about using it yet, but if somebody decides to start examining it-!"

Lion-O stopped. He'd been babbling nearly nonstop with his words coming faster and faster like a nerd enthused about his favorite comic. In the silence he turned his head just a smidge and gave Cheetara a small, somewhat forced smile. "…You think I'm crazy, don't you(3)?"

With a vaguely bemused expression she simply said, "I think you're…different." 'Different.' 'Different' wasn't 'loony bin, idiot, nut job or dreamer.' And the fact that she didn't look completely creeped out by his interest made his liking of her increase by several notches. "It's funny," she said suddenly. "Most guys your age are hiding dirty magazines. You're hiding ideas for things that can make the world better. It's a little sad." Under those long, exotic lashes, she met his gaze and he felt like he'd been pinned in place under a microscope. "Have people said they're stupid or something?"

"Well, not stupid, per se. Loony, maybe. A waste of time. 'Stupid' is more implied than anything." With that he carefully folded the papers again and slid them under his bed again. "I'm used to it, though."

"Well you know what they say; plenty of great discoverers and thinkers were called crazy at first." There was nothing deceitful or mocking in the way she said that. Only a serene, honest gentleness. Searching her face for a sign of incredulity, Lion-O found none.

His heart beat a little faster, even though he tried to quash the blooming warmth in his chest. She _didn't_ think he was nuts.

Snarf mewled, thumping his tail and ruining the moment as he climbed into Lion-O's suitcase. "Snarf, get out of there." Snarf obeyed and Lion-O cringed; he'd forgotten he'd packed his extra boxers in there, and Snarf was carrying a pair of them in his mouth. "Snarf!"

Cheetara laughed outright and took them from the creature. "He's a troublemaker. Are you sure about keeping him?"

Snarf snorted derisively and hopped into Lion-O's lap, purring and rubbing his side against his owner's front. "I'll take care of him. Though he needs to stay out of my laundry." In spite of himself, Lion-O stroked along Snarf's spine. "Do you think he understands us?"

"Search me. He's smart, and not in a good way. He'll get into boxes and containers of food if you're not careful. He can even unscrew lids. He ate all the maraschino cherries in the fridge one day," she added pointedly. Snarf had the presence to look abashed. "Are you sure you don't want me to stick around and help you unpack?"

He'd brought his pajama t-shirt. It had Transformers on it. It was buried somewhere in his packs. "I'm sure. Thank you, though." As if she'd read his mind and knew exactly what he was thinking, she gave him a friendly pat on the arm.

"Okay then. I need to get back, anyway. You know, just because these kids are at a prestigious university doesn't mean they're sweethearts like you. If anything weird goes on, or somebody's having a wild party, you can come to the clinic for the night. We have a sofa, and some extra rooms in the back where we live since we're trying to keep Kit and Kat out of trouble. It's the least we can do for you, since Jaga knows your family and you helped the kids and all."

"Thank you. Is the foster system in Tretierra really so bad that you can't adopt them officially, if you want them to stay with you?" he asked, ignoring the way his heart throbbed when she called him a 'sweetheart.'

"Unfortunately. And nobody comes looking for them – too many problems in the city. They're paranoid about being separated, and told us flat out that if we try to get them in the system to adopt them, they'll run away." Speechless, Lion-O blinked and lowered his head a little. "They've lost their parents, and they're not willing to lose each other."

"I see." She gave Snarf a small pat on the head, and turned to leave. "Um – hang on, I'll go with you."

Cheetara glanced at him over her shoulder, bemused once more. "I can get back on my own. I'm a tough girl."

"I know. I just…well, if this city is like everyone says, I want to make sure you get home okay." He watched her for signs of offense; perhaps it was old-fashioned, but the idea of her getting on the bus and heading home on her own in this grimy, creepy city where strangers randomly poked you or worse made him nervous. "Besides, then I'll be sure I remember the way there and back on my own."

And, he admitted inwardly, he wanted to spend a little bit more time with her.

"If you say so. Better bring Snarf so he doesn't mess anything up while you're gone." He obeyed, picking up the beast as he trotted after her, Snarf growling in protest.

* * *

><p>1 – Anybody else like Lion-O's kinda turtle-neck type of collar? Because I think it's cute. Then again, I wear turtlenecks sometimes, so that might account for it.<p>

2 – Don't do drugs, kids. Particularly not illegal ones. Or if you do, don't get offended by this note.

3 – First episode reference, anyone?

Also, before it comes up, in my high school salutatorian and valedictorian were decided after seven semesters. So Lion-O graduating midterm wouldn't have any effect on it, depending on the school. Hence, he's starting up college in January rather than August or September.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Obviously not, considering the direction the show is going. Nor are any songs used or quotes referenced. Or Neosporin. Or Jimmy Neutron.

All right, here's a little note. Yes, I watched the most recent episode of ThunderCats. Yes, I saw the end of it. Yes, this story will _still _have Lion-OxCheetara. Why? Because this is an AU, because I prefer the pairing, and because I feel that the story of the love triangle is not, in fact, over. In this universe of the modern AU, Tygra never gave Cheetara a flower which she ate, unintentionally giving her the strength and/or patience/obstinacy to sit outside a door for days, and hence she never fell in love with him or neglected to mention it for years on end afterward.

I have many reasons for which I have come to dislike the pairing, but I'm not going to hate on those who do like TygraxCheetara. If I have criticisms against it, I will be civil about it and I won't harass fan fiction of said pairing. It would be lovely if people would be mature about comments they leave. I am aware what is "canon" for now. If you are a TygraxCheetara fan that simply can't tolerate Lion-O or fan fiction featuring him and Cheetara, kindly leave. I will respect your fiction; please respect mine.

Thank you. If you survived that little disclaimer, feel free to enjoy this latest chapter. And Tygra shows up next chapter, so don't think I'm not writing him at all. He comes in more later.

Have a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year if I don't update before then. Warning; chapter contains copious amounts of Snarf cuteness. Next couple chapters will have different cuteness.

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><p>"<em>Your nerves gather with the altitude; exhale the stress so you don't come unglued. Somewhere there is a happy affair, a ghost of a good mood."<em>

_Rainbow Veins, Owl City_

* * *

><p>Snarf woke Lion-O up early every morning over the week before class officially started, meowing because he was hungry. The creature had given his bowl of kibble a disdainful look before winding around Lion-O's ankle and purring, eyes huge in the lamp light.<p>

That was how Lion-O ended up with a half box cereal instead of three-quarters of one, and one quarter of a carton of milk instead of a half in the tiny, portable fridge Claudus had insisted on getting him. But Snarf had looked happy, and he was good company, soothing his nerves with his bizarre antics. Lion-O was ninety percent sure Snarf understood everything he said; heck, he was pretty sure the creature could read. There was no way he had gotten out bread, peanut butter and jelly and made a sandwich and just left it sitting on the counter in a hurry. Suspicious, he had glanced at Snarf; he had looked all too innocent and sleepy, but Lion-O saw – and this was amusing more than anything – that Snarf had a plastic knife smeared with jelly hidden in his paws.

"You are the weirdest pet I've ever seen. You'll need milk with that, you know." At that, he poured the little beast a cup of milk and, for the sake of being nice, went and got a plastic straw for Snarf from the dining commons, even though it was three in the morning.

Snarf returned this new affectionate and free lifestyle with attention, listening, purring, cuddling, and yowling loudly at strangers, as if to inform them that if they attempted to touch his new owner without his say-so, Snarf knew where they slept and would chew their faces off.

He needed to make sure Snarf understood that not all people walking by the door meant him bodily harm and that even if they did, he didn't need Snarf to attack like some rabid guard animal. He wished he'd told him that before that poor fraternity boy had come by to see if he wanted to join.

Lion-O didn't, but he did become friendly acquaintances with the young man as he pried Snarf off his arm and cleaned up the cuts the tiny claws had left. He showed the cat Snarf's tags, proving he had all his necessary shots and absolutely no diseases, and Snarf even brought the man some bandages, looking terribly guilty.

Thankfully, nobody ratted him out for having a pet. Perhaps they were afraid he would spill the beans about the illicit activities he saw _them _committing. Some did drugs, some kept pets. To each their own, he supposed.

The first days of Lion-O's classes were nerve wracking, but passed mostly without incident. Sure, the economy teacher seemed a little strange – she'd asked them if they really wanted to continue the downward spiral of society by continuing the corruption of the system they currently used. Funnily enough, everyone had shared a look and nodded, just to see what she'd do. Other than sigh she hadn't done much except assign twenty pages of text to read.

Chemistry was…frustrating. He had hoped beyond all hope that he would be able to skip the introductory course, but it was not to be. And the first item of the day, of course, had been a test to see where they all stood in their knowledge of the small chemicals and compounds that built up their universe. Lion-O did fairly well for not having studied it for a month, though he'd always been interested in the subject. Unfortunately, there were enough poor grades for the professor to stare at them, turn to the board, and scribble a picture onto it. "Hopefully you've all seen Jimmy Neutron. This shows up in the introduction. It's called an atom."

Not exactly promising for finding out about the newest elements discovered.

Math was math; the teacher was nice, uninteresting. English sounded like one essay after another, but that wasn't so bad. He'd have to find a way to reserve a spot in the campus library for computer and printer usage, but hey, it was more comfortable than the dorm.

Since he was in the business program, certain classes were not required for his degree. Lion-O was greatly relieved when he discovered he wouldn't have to take an art class, or a foreign language; he could draw diagrams and devices, but when it came to doodling a recognizable face, he was about as skilled in that as he was fluent in Giantor – not at all.

That did, however, mean he had to take a history course. He decided on one that focused on the last two hundred years of the country. And that made him nervous, because the professor was notorious for being the most hard-nosed, intellectual, uncompassionate being on the campus.

When the cat walked into class, Lion-O had heard several people swallow audibly. His first thought was that the cat was as big as his dad, and looked just as out of place in a tie. He had dark fur and enough muscle to smash any one of the tables in the room by accident. Broad and barrel-chested, his right eye had a pale scar and was glazed with glaucoma, but his left piercingly glared at all of them. He walked like he owned the room and commanded every living or nonliving thing in it. When he removed his suit jacket and set it against the back of his chair, Lion-O couldn't help but notice that under his white shirt the cat's bicep was probably as big around as Lion-O's middle.

Good grief, even the sideburns and samurai cut ponytail were scary

His footsteps clicked, claws touching the tile floor as he strode in, settling his briefcase on the desk up front. When he turned to face them, Lion-O felt a little bit like a rookie matador facing a bull. A really big bull, with horns and hooves of steel.

"Good afternoon. My name is Panthro Fides. Call me Professor Panthro or sir. Don't call me 'hey you,' 'dude,' or 'big guy.' I have no doubt that you've heard a variety of rumors about me. Let me put your musings to rest; they're all true." He leaned onto his desk, weight resting against his massive paws, claws clacking heavily against the wooden surface. The sound echoed, and somebody in the room coughed.

Lion-O fought the urge to blink. He'd heard the guy had broken someone's leg for mouthing off once. In the military. Maybe he was being hyperbolic.

"Work hard and don't give me any lip, and we'll get along fine. If I petrify you, drop the class; I won't spit at you in public. But act like some kind of punk, and I'll make your experience here something you'll never forget." He set down his briefcase and smirked at all of them. Lion-O got the feeling the experience wouldn't be a pleasant memory.

Everyone else was as scared as he was, apparently. Nobody said a word unless directly spoken to, and the end of class came very quickly after little more than an explanation of the syllabus. But Professor Panthro searched each face when the clock chimed for the end of class and said, "Lion-O Rey, get your tail over here. I need to talk to you."

Had he been fidgeting? Had the professor mistaken his blinking for falling asleep or not paying attention? Perhaps he'd been breathing wrong? Lion-O felt shorter than ever – he'd always been small for a lion, and boy was he hating it now – as he picked up his backpack and notebook and crossed the enormous, auditorium-styled room to stop in front of his gargantuan professor. "Yes sir?"

Professor Panthro glanced over him. "You're Claudus' boy, right?" Wow, twice in one week. Lion-O nodded, neck aching from keeping eye contact with the professor. "You look like him, short stuff. I'm an old friend of your dad's. He called me and asked me to keep an eye on you."

Some strange mixture of homesickness and irritation bubbled inside his throat at that. Of course, he was touched that Dad worried about him. But at the same time, calling this cat and asking him to watch after him? What was he, thirteen?

"Thanks. But I'm okay." Lion-O squinted. "I've seen you before, haven't I?"

"I worked for Claudus about ten years. You were only eleven when I left. I suppose Grune is still there?"

Grune Verrater. Yes, he was. Lion-O nodded and tried not to make a face.

There was something about Grune that just didn't seem right. He'd been friends with Claudus for years, but for some reason Lion-O had never liked him very much. There was an oily quality to his voice, something very…falsely friendly about him. Tygra had scoffed when Lion-O mentioned it as a child. "You're just mad that he thinks I'd be a better boss than you."

That wasn't strictly true. It _had _upset him when Grune so cavalierly told his dad that he always seemed to have his head in the clouds. But even before that, Lion-O had never been able to be around the big saber tooth without feeling very nervous. Thankfully he didn't visit much, as he oversaw production in a building a few cities over from Pantherle. Tygra loved him, though, so he was always welcome in the apartment to visit and regale Tygra with tales of foreigners and the unusual business going down. "Yeah. He's still working for Dad."

"Hmph. You sound enthused about the fact." Lion-O felt his brows lower; if he'd offended this guy, the semester was off to a rocky start. Professor Panthro seemed to notice his expression, for he added, "Don't worry; we've been friends for a long time, but I know he's got his faults. Guy can be a pain in the tail like nobody else. Your dad though, I respect. So if you run into trouble, tell me."

"Thanks. But again, I can look after myself." The panther snorted.

"Fine. I expect a lot from you, Mr. Rey. I know Claudus wouldn't raise a punk; he'd hide you before accepting any lip. Don't think that because you're out of Pantherle you can run around like an idiot. I have a low opinion of freshmen who come here thinking college is a time for a party when tuition is so expensive for their families."

Lion-O bristled, and felt his fur stand entirely on end. "Excuse me, _sir_, but I'm paying my own way. I'm not letting Dad pay for _any_ of it." With that he turned and managed not to stomp out, ears steaming. "And I don't party like that. I saw the consequences when there were police cars on the street picking up the people who did. If you'll excuse me, I have homework."

So, the first meeting with Professor Panthro didn't go very smoothly. It could have gone worse though; he got the idea afterwards that the cat at least didn't think he was a gutless teen in over his head. Not that he said much to him in particular. He just ignored everyone unless they had a question. Professor Panthro taught and forced information into their heads. Half the class dropped by the second day.

Lion-O had always thought you couldn't _make_ a student learn if they didn't want to. Professor Panthro could.

He had been used to AP courses in high school, so getting situated into the college study habits wasn't as hard as it might have been. It was, however, hard to get used to being all alone and hearing no familiar voice.

Well, save for the person upstairs who liked to sing random nineties hits. More than once Lion-O and Snarf had woken up to songs he half knew the words to because of hearing them when he was younger. He was a little ashamed to be able to remember sixty-five percent of the lyrics to 'Bye Bye Bye.'

The first couple weeks of class went by. He adjusted to the job of buying and selling ratty textbooks and overpriced flash drives, and the occasional hoodie. Lion-O learned what kind of teachers he had, and what kind of work they gave. And he also learned that community showers didn't always have proper stalls because of vandalism, and sometimes you simply had to live with it when the guy next to you poked you a little too close to a personal place and asked if he could borrow your soap.

Lion-O just handed it over and told the guy to keep it. And started buying body soap in bottles to prevent further losses of soap bars.

* * *

><p>"So then, it was when Tygus and Leo fought in the civil war of the Lizard Uprising that the two 'sides' were established; those in favor of lizard rights and those against. Although we focus on the lizards, it was really a battle for all species to have the same rights as cats. Tygus later in his life supported the views of Leo, who wanted equality regardless of species. Tygus fought Leo because of political stresses caused by the cats who were torn on the issue, and loyalty to a group that only after civil war started declared their support of the cat supremacists. It was always said that on the battlefield, if Leo and Tygus weren't trying to beat the tar out of each other, they were watching each other's back for incoming shrapnel."<p>

Professor Panthro took a drink from his bottle of water, pausing as he considered the next part.

"According to military legend, Tygus actually freed Leo when he was captured by one of Tygus' squads by mixing hard liquor with the squad's supply of milder drink. When they were all out of it, he cut Leo loose. He then hit himself hard enough in the head to knock himself out, in order to make it appear that Leo had escaped their encampment on his own. I don't think I need to tell you that there are doubts about the story; Leo and Tygus were the only ones who knew, and they took the secret to their graves. What is not in doubt is that they were friends to their dying days, even after fighting on opposite sides in a war. There are plenty of stories of Leo saving Tygus as well, but while they're all fascinating, I can't spend all day on them."

Lion-O had stopped writing, listening to the story instead. Professor Panthro's good eye misted a little as he spoke, and Lion-O thought of all the pictures Dad kept of Leo in admiration; it had always alarmed guests to look from the portraits to Lion-O because – save for the fact that his mane was nowhere near so long and neat – he really looked almost exactly like their ancestor.

Well, he didn't quite have the elegant, gentleman's good looks. Maybe when he was older. Lion-O wasn't sure how he felt about a guy having a prettier mane than his girlfriend(1). Panthera had been a beautiful woman, although history didn't say much about her, or whether her and Leo's courtship – scandalous for a lion to even consider marrying and mating with someone other than a lioness back then – had ever culminated in marriage and cubs. There were no documents about it, and Lion-O had a hard time believing Leo would have committed any form of fornication, or adultery in particular. The lioness history stated he married was where they traced their bloodline; far more respectable to think he hadn't "dirtied" the noble blood of lions. Lion-O made a face.

Come to think of it, it was _still _considered scandalous for lions to court non-lions. His great-uncle had nearly lost his life for trying to marry a leopard sixty years ago because of the rage of the previous generation.

_A cat is a cat, and our coats shouldn't matter._ He'd never liked a lioness, probably because they were so rare and he was half-related to most of them. Sure, they could be pretty, but no more so than any other woman. He preferred the color yellow, actually. And spots were attractive. And blond hair. And light burgundy eyes.

Lion-O bit his lip. He'd met Cheetara once. _Stop acting like an idiot! You don't like her that way! Even if she is smart. And kind. And pretty. And doesn't act like she thinks you're nuts._

He tried to force himself to focus on the lecture again. Failing, he returned his thoughts to Leo and Tygus.

They had pictures of Tygus on the wall at home as well, and he looked hard, distant. Lion-O couldn't ever figure out if he liked him or not. Admired him for some qualities, certainly. But liked? Maybe not. Ruggedly handsome, he had always reminded him of Tygra, looking down on him from the wall.

"Mr. Rey." He jumped and tilted his head back. Professor Panthro was standing directly in front of him.

"Yes sir?"

"Would you like to answer the question I just asked the class?" He could trace irritation in the hard lines of the jaw and dark sideburns. Lion-O wracked his brain for whatever Professor Panthro had said.

"Could you please repeat it?"

"No."

Of course. He felt every eye in the classroom resting on him as he responded, as politely as possible, "Then I'm afraid I can't answer it. I was thinking about the story you told of Leo and Tygus."

"Stories have their place, Mr. Rey. I didn't tell it to you so you could ignore important sections of my lecture. I told it to help you form an answer to my query. The question was about whether you think Tygus was, when things are all said and done, a noble cat – as far as the term can be applied to a mortal – or an opportunist. Considering he fought on the side of the oppressors and switched to the other side after Leo and his fellows won the war, did he just switch over for appearance's sake?"

Lion-O stared. He thought of the picture on the wall again, and said slowly, "I don't know. I'd like to think he was misguided and figured it out after a while. If he and Leo were so close, even though they were enemies, I think he tried to be honorable wherever he could. And sometimes people make mistakes. Do things they regret. That doesn't mean they're all bad, or can't be forgiven."

One cat behind him snickered. "Sing it sister. Preach on." He fought the urge to turn his head, knowing that even now his ears would be reddening to match his hair. Professor Panthro cast his gaze on the cat and the laughter turned into a cough.

"A very optimistic view. One you are entitled to." Professor Panthro lifted his head and looked around, scanning the group. "There are certain things in history we can know. We can know when a certain battle took place. We can know stated reasons people did things when they're written down. We can know when something was invented and how it has developed. But we can't know some things. Individual motivations, for example. There were countless cats, lizards, and beings of every other species who fought in the wars, and each for their own reasons. Some were simply for the sake of shedding blood. Some wanted to shelter their families and give them better futures."

He crossed his arms. "My job is not to convince you that somebody was noble or ignoble. I have my beliefs about people, and being the brilliant adolescents you are, I'm sure you do too." The sarcasm curled like smoke. "I am here to educate you about what happened, and inform you of what might have happened. I told you this and asked the question because I wanted to make a point. There are some things history can't tell us, and you have to make up your mind about what you believe. Some of you apparently think Tygus was just pure scum. You can think that. Some of you think he was misguided and changed for a cause I hope we can all agree is noble. I will tolerate disagreement in this class. I will not tolerate treating other people's ideas as worthless. Even if they weren't paying much attention to the lecture."

He strode to his desk and picked up a thick stack of papers. "This is a review for your first exam. It'll help you all get the idea of how I grade, and what to expect."

Lion-O felt his irritated confusion battle the sudden surge of affection he had for the burly panther. Everybody stood up and began to shuffle out the door again, meekly taking their packets and eying with unease the small print and double-sided papers. He accepted his and gave the professor a look, one that was cautiously appreciative. "Sorry about drifting off. It's just, my dad thinks a lot of both of them, and I was thinking about stuff I've heard about them."

"He would. So do I. Just pay attention next time." And with that the panther left, leaving Lion-O with a packet and a small sense of relief.

* * *

><p>"In your own words, describe the economic and political impact of the Silver Hawk(2) faction of the abolitionists who supported the rights of flying animals to freely soar the skies. Do you think they caused more harm or benefit with their trade in 1804? State your reasons for your opinion."<p>

Lion-O scratched his head. "I hate essay questions." Snarf sniffed at the spilled remains of somebody's soda and meowed. "I guess they were for a good cause, but they also caused a lot of economic problems by outdoing the traders limited to ground travel, which helped lead to the recession…hm. Although, I suppose it was because of them that the abolitionists did so well because they delivered weaponry without being trapped by blockades set up by the supremacists." People brushed against his sides and back as he stood by the bus stop bench, but he'd gotten used to that by now. It was overcast and chilly, and he was glad of his sweater and scarf. He shifted from foot to foot, pondering about those new ideas some people were getting into – they sounded tacky and uncomfortable, but "shoes" might prove to be successful in a few years(3).

Snarf gave him a look. "I know, I know. Either we walk to the grocery or wait half an hour for the bus. Which do you prefer?" Snarf tilted his head and grabbed the hem of his pant leg and started tugging away from the bus stop bench. Lion-O shook his head and crouched to pick up the antsy creature, cradling him against his front, the papers pressed between them. "Sheesh, when you're hungry you're fussy. You're not too cold are you?"

Shaking his head, Snarf clutched at the scarf with both forepaws. "Snarf Snarf."

Strangely enough, Lion-O had learned how to interpret the various noises and moods Snarf exhibited. That had been something along the line of, "No, not if you carry me. And I haven't eaten all day!"

Well, there were worse things than being the weirdo at the curb who talked in complete sentences to his pet, right? Lion-O shrugged, checked that little pocket in his sweater for his wallet, and began carrying Snarf along the sidewalk. "I think I remember where it is. Two streets down and one over. Should I bother getting you kibble?"

"Blech!" Snarf stuck his tongue out and cuddled in, hiding his fluffy face from the wind. A couple of people glanced at him for carrying Snarf, but Lion-O didn't notice, too busy watching his surroundings to make sure he remembered the way back.

"Okay. Well, I guess a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, some lunch meat for the fridge, milk and…I dunno, grape juice?" Snarf shrugged and Lion-O chewed his lip. "I like grape juice. We'll get some of that, soda's in the vending machines at school. Instant microwave stuff for dinner I guess, it's cheap. Budget is twenty-five dollars this week, buddy. Off brand is a lifesaver."

It would have been easy to call Dad for a weekly allowance for a grocery budget. But Tygra never had, and Lion-O's pride refused it. He had come up here to prove he could do this, so darn straight he was going to. He could afford to spend more, but he didn't see the reason; he was at the age where one could survive on the cheapest food available. That, and it was never a bad thing to save up for a rainy day. Or textbooks, as they were outrageous even with his employee discount.

Working his way through the people got easier all the time. It was easier to figure out now who would care if he nudged them as he threaded through the sidewalk, and who would turn around and snarl at him. Snarf pressed close to his front, ears tickling his owner's chin as he ducked his head under affectionately. Lion-O liked looking around at all the signs and windows when he walked, but he had to be careful to avoid people stepping on his feet. Being short was rarely a benefit, and these situations were no exceptions.

January was drawing to a close, and though the air was still bitterly cold, Valentine's Day hearts and cards were being stuck in the windows of shops and flashing across screens. Lion-O didn't think about it much, as it had always been a holiday he had not had the pleasure of celebrating with somebody he could rightly call a significant other. But it was cheerful to see pink and white and happy couples walking hand in hand in the commercials.

The 'walk' sign across the street lit up, and he crossed the pavement, Snarf squealing at the smell of exhaust. He reached the sidewalk and stepped next to a telephone booth, peering around to figure out his surroundings again. "Okay. One more, then one over. Whiskers, there's a lot of people out today."

"Stop!" Lion-O's ears perked and he glanced back across the street. The screeching of car brakes made Snarf stiffen, and a figure in a sweater with the hood up with something clutched to his front pelted across the pavement in front of it. The car honked, making the people scatter, and he heard somebody cry again, "Stop! Thief!"

In retrospect, it was a very stupid thing he did next. Very stupid indeed.

Lion-O hurriedly set Snarf on the ground and dashed across the sidewalk, intercepting the figure. "Hey!"

He got a glimpse of dusty fur and a livid face before being rammed back by arms crossed protectively over the apparently stolen item, his own weight no match for the bigger figure. He grunted, digging his claws into the sidewalk and pulling back a paw to slam the guy in the face. The thief yelled and pushed him back again, this time knocking him off balance. Lion-O wondered for maybe a moment why the people around him didn't jump in to help. They would have in Pantherle. Different types, different city.

"Ugh!" A hard fist busted him in the mouth, and Lion-O felt his lip start bleeding and his jaw suddenly felt wrong as his back hit the ground. Another cry echoed, and he opened his eyes against the splattering blood to see Snarf – panicking, shrieking – darting around the thug's ankles. The cat stumbled backward, and Lion-O sat up in a hurry, dizzily trying to get to his feet.

A golden blur slammed the cat in the head with a fantastic kick, whirling like something out of a kung fu movie. He groaned, and crumpled like a sack of cement, the gold figure standing huffily behind him. The item he'd stolen – a handbag, brown and slim – tumbled to the ground, and Snarf darted to it as if to stand guard, hissing at the downed thief. "Snarf! Snarsnarf!"

"Thanks for that. It's nice to know somebody in the city will try to stop a criminal."

Lion-O gingerly felt his chin, relieved to find he could open his mouth easily. He didn't immediately look at the woman, wiping the blood off his mouth. "No problem. Nice kick." The golden figure stooped to check her handbag, pausing when she saw Snarf. The creature trilled.

"Snarf?" Lion-O looked up as she said the name and his paw fell away from his face in shock. Cheetara was the woman crouched in the street, and she stood up and looked toward him. Surprise reflected across her lovely face. "Lion-O! Hi, I didn't-oh my gosh, your mouth!"

Well, so much for looking decent the next time he saw her.

The passerby were uneasily skirting around them, and Lion-O returned the paw to his mouth, hoping to hide the small stream rushing from his lip. "It's not bad, he just hit me in the mouth. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Let me see it." Lion-O had thought perhaps that since he hadn't seen her in a couple weeks, he might not be so flustered when he saw her again. No such luck; Cheetara drew up close, brows knitted as she examined his face, and she touched his face, avoiding the blood with a practiced hand, and it was all he could do to keep himself from shrinking in humiliation as she looked him over, her hands careful against his brow as she looked him over for any other injuries. "Oh, Lion-O we need to get that cleaned up. I'm so sorry."

"You weren't the one who slugged me. I'm glad he didn't get your purse." Oh criminy, his nose had started bleeding. Cheetara unzipped the bag and pulled out a small package of tissues, opening the plastic and handing it to him. Giving it a swift look over to make sure the thief hadn't snatched anything, she zipped it shut again.

"Use that to stem the blood, we're not too far from the clinic. Come on, we can catch the bus there if we hurry back." Taking hold of his clean paw, she shifted the purse to her shoulder and began tugging him back the way he'd come. Lion-O paused once to make sure Snarf was following. He was, fretting and spitting at anyone who looked his way. He also clutched a packet of white paper in his mouth, and Lion-O realized he'd dropped his review packet earlier.

"Should we call the police about that guy?" Cheetara glanced back at him, scrutinizing the prone form.

"Oh, it's not like he won't be back on the street in three hours even if we do. Looking after you is more important. Come on, we need to catch the bus." And so, feeling more than a little sticky – not to mention dumb as a rock – he followed her, noticing in spite of his throbbing face and uncomfortable heat there that she looked dangerous and kind of cute when she was steaming mad.

* * *

><p>"It's nearly stopped bleeding. Are you sure he didn't knock any teeth loose?"<p>

Lion-O couldn't nod, nor could he trust himself to speak without moving his lips, so he simply said, "Nn-hn," in affirmation. Cheetara continued dabbing the damp cotton swab against his lip, half-smiling.

"I'd ask you how classes are going, but you can't reply just yet." He put up a thumb, and she smiled a little more. "That's good."

Sitting in her bathroom on the side of the tub was not exactly how he had hoped to see Cheetara again, but he'd take what he could get. With a first aid kit on the sink counter and an ice pack on his knee for coming use, Lion-O was left looking directly at her while she doctored the cut. It was very nerve racking to stare directly at her focused, quiet face, inches away as she worked. "Good news is, you won't need stitches. Bad news is, if you eat anything salty for a while, it's going to smart. Hold still, I'm almost done." She put the cotton swabs in the little waste basket beside the sink counter and hunted through the first aid kit, pulling out a tube and a small bandage. "Okay, Neosporin and a bandage until we're sure it's closing." She leaned in close, and Lion-O tried to look to the side, rather than staring at her awkwardly. Her fingers were pleasantly cool against his sore jaw and lip, stinging where she put the antibiotic. He wanted to tell her he could have done that, but somehow he got the feeling she would have ignored him.

"There. Put the ice against it, and we'll take a look at it in a couple of hours." Lion-O obediently picked up the ice pack and placed it against his face, sighing through his nose.

"Thanks. He didn't get anything out of your purse, did he?" He must have been somewhat understandable, for Cheetara shook her head, muted bulb light shining where it hit her mane. "That's a relief." It took a minute, but after she had put the tube back in the kit and shut it carefully, he asked, "So, other than some jerk stealing your purse, how have you been?"

"Snarf!" Now that he knew Lion-O was all right, Snarf hadn't stopped running around and begging for food. Paws scrabbling against the side of the tub, Snarf tilted his head plaintively and let his huge ears droop back as if his little heart was broken.

Cheetara picked up the little creature. "You're looking well. Has Lion-O been taking care of you?"

Snarf nodded, wriggling and pointing to his mouth. Lion-O smiled sheepishly behind the ice pack and the bandage. "We were going to get groceries. I ran out of bread, and Snarf has stopped eating his kibble. He prefers peanut butter." Immediately he wondered if she'd think him an irresponsible owner, but funnily enough she just shook her head.

"Snarf, you're spoiled. You're lucky Lion-O's nice enough to put up with you. Jaga would make you eat the kibble." Snarf only looked smug and purred, freeing himself from her paws and sashaying from her lap to Lion-O's. "Oh, getting sassy now?" The amusement in her voice was sweet, and he had to make himself not grin; he didn't want to split his lip under the bandage. She caught his eye and he was disconcerted to see her give him a guilty glance. "I really am sorry about that. I should have been able to catch him without dragging anybody into it. He pushed me over when he grabbed it."

Lion-O shook his head vigorously. "You might've gotten hurt. I'm glad I helped, even if I did just provide a speed bump for him. Oh hey, Snarf, thanks for tripping him." Snarf sighed and climbed out of his lap so Lion-O could stand up.

"To answer your earlier question, I've been fine. There are more lowlifes in Tretierra than street lights is all. How long has school been in?" she asked.

He shrugged and offered her a paw to help her up in the cramped quarters, sidling out the door after Snarf. "About three weeks now. Most of the professors are nice, although there are some weirdoes. And Professor Panthro scares everybody senseless."

Her eyes lit with familiar mischief. "Oh, everyone's heard of Panthro Fides. You've got him? What for?"

"History. That's what this is for," he added, pulling the folded packet out of his pocket and smoothing the creases with one paw. He handed it to her, moving the ice pack again. "We've got an exam soon, I'm trying to study up for it."

She scanned the page, turning off the bathroom light and made a face. "All essay questions?"

"He says he doesn't have time for lucky namby-pambies who guess 'C' all day." Lion-O took the pages back and stuck them back in his pocket. "I just don't want to bomb the first test. Particularly not since he knows my dad."

"Yes, Claudus and Panthro go back a long way." Jaga – in that strange, quiet way he did – had exited from the room across the hall. Lion-O caught sight of what looked like an office, filled with neatly stacked papers and bins, before Jaga shut the door. "I called the police. You must have kicked the cat very hard, Cheetara; he was still out cold when they showed up." Jaga sympathetically clucked his tongue at the sight of Lion-O hiding his face against the ice. "There are less dangerous ways of getting a girl's attention, you know." Lion-O's lip throbbed, and it hurt enough that he didn't have time to get flustered.

Cheetara didn't look guilty in the slightest about the unconscious cat, putting her paws on her hips. "That's what he gets. Jaga, do we have anything in the fridge that doesn't have salt or anything? Snarf is hungry, and his owner might be too, and I want them to stick around until I can check on Lion-O's mouth one more time."

Jaga nodded, tugging his beard as he thought. "Some fruit in the crisper. And I'm sure Snarf will find something he'll deign suitable."

"You don't have to do that, I'm fine. And we'll just take the bus to the grocery to pick something up." Lion-O felt his face tingle where Cheetara's eyes lingered on him, somewhere between pitying and considering. And perhaps just the slightest glimmer of admiration.

That might have been his imagination, but he found himself hoping very much that it wasn't. "Come on, you can study here as easily as you can at the dorm. And the bus runs until ten tonight, so you have all evening. And Snarf's going to throw a fit if he doesn't get fed soon." That much was true. Snarf whacked his tail against Lion-O's ankle. "Besides, it's the least we can do."

Lion-O found he couldn't tell her 'no.' Not when her mouth quirked and she tilted her head fetchingly. "Well…"

Jaga and Cheetara lived in a group of rooms behind the section of the building used as the vet clinic. It was a funny thing, going from the clean lobby, past the examination room and the kennels – filled with every kind of pet imaginable, boarded while their owners traveled – and rooms specifically made comfortable for birds and amphibious creatures through a door into a sitting room. "It's a small place, and other than a couple of assistants studying to be veterinarians, we don't have many workers. But people like that it's personal, unlike the big places in the heart of the city. It just means we don't have much extra room. It's a good thing you picked up Snarf – we were going to take him to the shelter in a couple weeks, since we're only officially for exams and boarding pets." Snarf looked horrified and clung to Lion-O's leg, keening. Cheetara gave him an apologetic look as she led them to the kitchen.

It was old fashioned, and smelled of bread and orange citrus dish soap. The counters gleamed, and the table was worn but clean. Cheetara imperiously gestured toward one of the chairs and Lion-O sat obediently, still holding the ice pack against his lip, though removing it once to prod the bandage. "Snarf, what do you want?" she asked, opening the refrigerator. Snarf nimbly clambered into it and pointed excitedly at what appeared to be a packet of ham, a slice of cheese, and a bottle of mustard. Cheetara blinked. "You mean you want a sandwich?"

Lion-O felt his face redden. "Yeah. I've gotten him to at least ask for a sandwich now, but he knows how to make them. He makes a mess when he does it though, so I usually just put one together." He got up and extracted Snarf from the fridge with one arm. "Snarf, why don't you just settle for some cheese right now? I'll fix you a sandwich later."

Cheetara's expression was somewhere between bemused and intrigued. "No, he can have one. I was just surprised that he knew which ingredients he liked. You actually make him a sandwich when he's hungry?"

Lion-O felt his face flush. "Am I going to get a talking to about proper pet diet?"

"I think that's kind of sweet. I mean, he seems to be very happy and healthy, so…why not? And I wouldn't know what to feed a whatever-he-is." Snarf beamed and rubbed his chin along Lion-O's arm, mewling affectionately. "I think he's smitten," she observed, meeting Lion-O's gaze.

Wow, he wished he didn't have to look at her over an ice pack. She returned her attention to the fridge. "Well, how about a sandwich for him and…I can slice up an apple for you, and see about finding something that won't irritate the cut after that."

"Oh, I'm okay. I mean, I'm not hungry."

She eyed him and Lion-O blinked. "Is something wrong?" Cheetara took the items out of the fridge, kneeling to pluck an apple out of the crisper. She carried it to the sink and washed her paws and then the apple. "Because you're the worst liar I've ever met, Lion-O Rey. And let me tell you, I've met some bad ones."

"Um. I just…I don't want to impose." He let the coolness of the ice fall away again, touching the bandage. His mouth was numb now. "Don't want to be a bother."

"You helped the kittens out, took in Snarf and stopped somebody from stealing my purse. I don't think it's a bother to patch you up and cut up an apple." From a little rack attached to the row of cabinets above her head, Cheetara took a piece of paper towel and lay it on the counter. Opening one of the drawers she tugged out a slim knife and began cutting with well-practiced, smooth motions. Lion-O watched the peel coil onto the paper towel.

"I know, but I can do that."

The feeling of being a burden was not unfamiliar to him, nor was it a pleasant sensation. It brought back too many times of his brother giving him lip about screwing up, or lamenting his immaturity. Perhaps it was not the same thing, but the two were connected in his mind.

Lion-O had come to Tretierra to prevent being a burden. To prove that yes, he could do things on his own and earn them based on his own merit. And even in little actions like Cheetara bandaging him or cutting an apple, he felt the sting of being too dumb or untalented to do something. She glanced at him, and for some reason her eyes seemed to pick through his own mulish stare. "I know you can. But I want to do it for you. People do that when they care, you know."

The hard little chink of obstinacy in him softened. Suddenly feeling abashed, he returned the ice pack to his lip. "I'm sorry. I just worry about that. Bothering people."

Cheetara shook her head. "It's not a problem." And to his relief, she didn't pry into his reasoning. She did, however, tug at his wrist to make him lower the ice pack again. Her face drew close to his, and he held his breath examined the bandage without touching it. "It looks good, and it had stopped bleeding by the time I bandaged it." This close he could count every individual eyelash. "Have the dorms been all right?"

"Yeah. The guy upstairs sings while working out and Snarf attacked a frat boy, but other than that things have been okay." Her eyes jolted up to his, away from the bandage, and they widened.

"Snarf did what!" she said. Snarf cringed, ducking around her and between Lion-O's feet for cover.

"I think he thought the guy wanted to hurt me. This was a couple weeks ago, so he wasn't used to the campus. Strangely, the fraternities haven't been asking me to sign any membership papers lately," he said. Cheetara still glared down at Snarf more than a little accusingly. "Really, he's been nice to have around. I'd be lonely there without him."

Jaga walked by the door without a word, attention elsewhere. Cheetara didn't look at him, returning her attention to Lion-O. "I didn't want to come by without an appointment," Lion-O continued, twitching when Snarf's tail tickled against his left ankle. "I thought you guys would be busy."

"Didn't I tell you to come by whenever?" Measuring, Cheetara's pupils looked inky as they bored into his. "Have we done something to perturb you? I know Tretierra is strange, but-"

"No, no. I just-"

Felt really small in a big place. Felt out of place in a really new place. Felt like his words got all jumbled and messed up when she pinned him with that hunting, probing look. "-I don't know. I guess the place is just so new and weird is all. You really won't mind if I come around?"

Her gaze softened, lashes lowering. She turned to take the sandwich ingredients. "I'd like it if you did; Kit and Kat have been pestering me to get you to come back. And you're a breath of fresh air compared to most of the guys we see this side of town. Most of them are creeps."

The thought of some slimy, oily cat talking to Cheetara over the counter of the lobby desk with his eyes wandering made Lion-O's head rush with a sudden, heated sort jealousy. A growl leaped to his mouth but he tensed just a smidge, preventing it from sounding. "Um. Well, glad to make waves."

Almost uncharacteristically, Cheetara grinned as if she found something incredibly funny. Sliding the paper towel toward him, she said, "Eat the slices. I have to make this little weirdo a sandwich."

Somehow he got the idea that it would take a person with a great deal of courage to tell Cheetara 'no' about anything at all. He picked up a piece and ate it, trying not to let it touch his lip. Snarf looked up at him, woebegone, and he lowered a piece to the pet, letting Snarf take it in his tiny forepaws. Snarf adoringly meowed, chewing on the apple slice and settled happily on his haunches.

Then something collided with Lion-O's back and he found himself flying forward into Cheetara. "Whoa!" With reflexes Lion-O didn't know he had, he grabbed Cheetara around the waist to keep her head from hitting the floor, his own knees banging into the ground heavily, and he slumped a little under the sudden weight on his back. But because of his motion, Cheetara hit the ground comparatively gently, and he instinctively pulled her close. Her mane brushed the floor but her head never came close. Snarf screeched in protest, as he'd nearly been flattened, darting under the table legs for sanctuary from the fall.

"Lion-O! Jaga said you were back here! We haven't seen you since forever ago!"

The weight on his back was a kitten. Wilykit, to be precise. Her brother was clambering under the table after Snarf. Lion-O blinked, staring at Cheetara; they were sitting on their knees awkwardly, pinned together by his arm and the way they'd landed, upright but too close to get to their feet. Cheetara – unharmed, upright – glanced down and then back up to his face, and he noticed that her arms were bent, pinioned between her chest and his. "Nice catch."

"Considering I'm the one who knocked you down," Lion-O responded. She extended her fingers in a gesture of appeasement, and when she let them relax they rested against his chest, light like wings.

"Ooh, I didn't mean to interrupt." Kit suddenly sounded sly right in his ear. Lion-O twitched his head and saw that she was hanging on to his shoulders, her head right beside his as she grinned. "Were you guys getting all smoochy?"

"Bleh! Kit, you're gross," Kat complained. Lion-O released Cheetara slowly – it was more difficult than it should have been – and gave Kit a look, willing his face to remain a neutral hue.

"We were not being 'all smoochy.' We were talking and she was making Snarf something to eat, and then you jumped on me and knocked me into her." Lion-O took hold of the counter and pulled himself to his feet, offering Cheetara his paw and tugging her up with him. Kit rolled her eyes, stopping when she inspected his face.

"What happened to you? Didja run into something?"

"No. Somebody ran into me – sort of." Lion-O watched Kat crawl from under the table, lugging Snarf with him as the creature yowled. "Why'd you jump on me?"

Kit looked offended, wrapping her arms around his neck and hanging on as if he were giving her a piggy back ride. "Because I was excited to see you! Hello, you haven't visited once!" She peered around his head, grinning at Cheetara. "Hi Cheetara. How'd Lion-O get all banged up?"

"Stopping a thief from stealing my purse. He held him up and I kicked the thief in the head. Where have you guys been?" The scolding tone was laced with worry, and Kat squirmed as she turned to him.

"Running around like always. Hey, is Snarf fatter, or is it just me?"

Snarf was indeed sleeker than before, and his fur grew in richer and more vibrantly. But he didn't take well to the word "fat," wriggling and thrashing until Kat let go. Haughtily, he flicked his tail and sat primly by his owner, sticking his nose in the air. "Snarf Snarf!"

"I've told you guys a thousand times to please, _please_ visit every day. I wish you'd just live here!" Her voice softened, but Lion-o listened carefully as she continued, turning back to the bread and other foodstuffs on the counter. "You have no idea how nervous you two make Jaga and me. Did you want something to eat?"

The kittens nodded vigorously, and Cheetara sighed through her nose, hotly. "And of course you won't tell me where you live when you're not here…"

"Nope," Kit stated emphatically. "Cheetara, we've been living on our own for three years, it's easy."

Lion-O frowned. He'd known they were orphans and didn't live in a foster care system, but…three years? They were only eight. "You've been running around the streets that long? And the police haven't found you?"

"Uh huh. It's not so hard, especially when Jaga and Cheetara give us clothes and food and stuff. There's so much crime and bad stuff in the city that the cops don't have time to look for us." Kit finally let go of him, dropping down to the ground and watching Cheetara make sandwiches almost violently. "But we don't want to bother them. That's one reason we don't live here. And we're used to going where we want."

"Doesn't mean you should. You're eight years old. Every time we try to get you to stay for more than three days at a time you run off and we don't hear from you for two. And looking after you guys isn't a bother. Any of you." Cheetara finished two sandwiches, and looked at Kat and Kit. "Wash your paws."

Kit trotted to the sink without complaint, although Kat made a face before acquiescing. Both needed a little boost to reach the counter comfortably – made for taller, leaner figures like Jaga and Cheetara, and the kittens were very short – so Lion-O lifted each one around the middle in turn. The clothes they wore were reasonably clean, this time not so ratty. Perhaps Jaga had given them new shorts and shirts.

"Did you say Lion-O got hurt stopping a thief?" Kat asked, scrubbing at his palms furiously with the soap. The reminder made Lion-O's face throb, and he shrugged one shoulder. Kit smiled, hopping beside him and wiping her paws on one of the clean cloths she could reach on the counter.

"He was some big cat. He took Cheetara's purse and ran. I just happened to be a speed bump for him so she could catch him. He socked me in the face. She would have caught him; he would have run out of steam, and she can sprint."

Kat finished scrubbing and nearly wiped his paws on his sides to dry them, but Cheetara took another cloth and handed it to him. "That would kind of defeat the purpose of washing, Kat." Lion-O let him down, Snarf stepping to avoid the tiny feet, nose still stuck in the air.

"Cool. Me and Kit stole coins from people before we found people who would help us, but we didn't like it. We know stealing is wrong." Kat sounded abashed, suddenly gloomy, and Kit's tail drooped. Cheetara rested a paw on each kitten's head.

"Come on, I'll make macaroni to go with the sandwiches. And stealing is wrong, but it would be kind of hard to blame hungry kittens who couldn't find help for taking enough coins to buy food," she said gently. They perked up at the mention of macaroni, and accepted the sandwiches she gave them. There was one extra, and she knelt and eyed Snarf. "You wanted ham, cheese and mustard, right?"

Snarf lowered his nose and bounded toward her, happily accepting the anticipated boon. "Snar-Snarf!"

"I think he said 'thank-you,'" Lion-O explained, bemused. Cheetara stood and shifted her weight to one hip, arms crossing.

"Are you a Snarf-whisperer, Lion-O Rey?" The way she said it indicated amusement, and he smiled without answering, watching Snarf eat with rather more grace than the kittens, nibbling at the apple she'd cut for him and trying to help as she fixed macaroni for the kittens.

He probably didn't help much, as it was instant macaroni and he couldn't cook very well. But she never told him to buzz off or to watch Snarf.

Lion-O spent the evening there. He studied the work packet, listened to the kittens talk as he tried to entertain them while Jaga worked, and watched Cheetara as she went from the front desk to the offices during the last work hours of the day, trying not to let her see he was looking at her.

* * *

><p>As the weeks went by and the classes gradually became more familiar to him, Lion-O developed the ability to schedule in something other than studying, working and sleeping. It wasn't easy; once, when he had three different exams in the same day, he had left the bookstore after his shift and a day of cramming and scribbling furiously only to end up on one of the community bathroom floors, staring vacantly up at some good Samaritan who had bothered to sit him up and dab water on his face. "Sheesh, dude, what's up? Party late or something?" The brown face was plain and friendly, a little incredulous as he gently whapped Lion-O's forehead. The tuft of red mane heading into white made him blink.<p>

"No. I…what happened?"

"You started to wash your face off and then you went white and fainted. Whiskers, your paws are shaking."

It turned out that the cat's name was Tor and he was studying to be a physicist, despite his adolescent sort of demeanor. He'd helped Lion-O to his feet and supported him to the benches outside by the vending machines and scenic potted shrubs. He had then proceeded to get into his knapsack and fish out a candy bar. "Have you eaten today?"

Lion-O blinked. "Uh. I don't think so. I've had too much to do."

Tor handed him the candy bar and was even so generous as to get a soda out of the nearest vending machine and give it to him. "Exam weeks are brutal around here, dude. You've got to eat, even if it's just plain sugar. At least then you can crash in your dorm later. The last guy who passed out in the bathroom woke up smelling like pee with his backpack stolen."

Making a face, Lion-O shook his head, caffeine and sugar quickly soothing his trembling fingers and shot nerves. "That's awful. Who does that?"

"Some guys. Not all, lucky for you." Tor had a pleasant voice and a nice grin, and his hoodie was olive, making Lion-O – in his somewhat dizzy state – think of some of the high school boys who had been popular, always wearing the school sweaters. "You should eat a real meal soon. The sugar helps for a while, but once you get something solid in your stomach you'll feel way better."

"Thank you. I'll pay you back for the-"

"Naw, it's cool." Tor grinned. "I live right next to you. It's nice to have a neighbor who doesn't like to sing foreign songs as loud as possible. Last year I had a weird guy by me. Don't get me wrong, he was nice, but man if he didn't like foreign pop music I don't know who does."

So, he did make a college friend. Admittedly, Tor was gone often for classes and his job as an intern, but Lion-O liked him. And he never did forget to at least swallow a Pop-Tart before running to class after that. He had no desire to have his backpack stolen, or wake up smelling of urine.

As the semester began to roll, and he gradually got more and more used to the whole thing, Lion-O carved out personal time to prevent himself from losing it, or talking to Snarf more than the average lonely guy who talks to his pet(4). Generally, it was Thursday night that he actually got to do anything other than read his textbooks, go to work, or fiddle with his ideas and talk to Snarf. Occasionally he went to the commons area to get coffee or just sit and listen to one of the radios or televisions set up. Once he went near where people apparently held parties, just to see what it was like. Other than a lot of thundering music and inappropriate behavior – they _were _mostly under the legal drinking age, weren't they? – he didn't see much. But, as time drew on, he finally just started going to the vet clinic more and more.

Part of that was because he really did worry about Snarf catching something in the damp weather. The dorm was safe and could even be comfortable, but Lion-O had to let the little guy out to do his business as Snarf blatantly refused a litter box. And people gave him weird looks when he took Snarf to the community bathroom and waited outside a stall for him. Yes, crazily enough, the creature could use a toilet. But it was unnatural, and Snarf didn't like to do it. His tail tended to fall in the water.

So, amidst rain and mud and weirdoes and massive squirrels, Lion-O took him to the clinic every few weeks or so. And visited about every Thursday at the same time.

And the other part…well, he was lonely save for Snarf, and they never seemed to mind him coming around. He was hypersensitive, hunting for any indication that they might be getting sick of him, but there was never a sign of annoyance when he came by. Instead, upon Snarf's yowl, he would hear, "Lion-O's here! Old man Jaga, Lion-O's here!" And then he would be assaulted by tiny, fluffy people who would beg him to play a game with them or – strangely enough – listen to an audio book with them. "I like the way the lady on the CD talks. She calms you down and knocks you out in ten minutes flat."

And of course, every time he saw Cheetara he had to look away and ignore the way his knees nearly knocked. He'd given up lying to himself about not crushing on her a long time ago. Now he was just trying to figure out when a crush had turned into something that was positively distracting. Something that felt a little deeper than infatuation; it was golden and rich, and starting to get really weird. He found himself thinking about her more often, a streak of golden mane and red eyes when he was at his most unsuspecting, usually when he was just drifting off to sleep and his mind got confused on whether he was dreaming or thinking.

Jaga seemed to think the whole thing funny. "Cupid needs to let you alone; you've got five classes and a job to handle, and you can't do that thinking about Cheetara the entire time." Every time he said that, Lion-O tripped or dropped something, looking ever more klutzy than he had felt before. And each time, Cheetara would admonish the cat for embarrassing him.

Lion-O wished he could read her the way she read him. But she was quiet, constantly veiled in her thoughts. The rare occasions he managed to make her laugh her head off – he once picked up the Froog to get it away from Kit who wouldn't stop squealing that she wasn't scared but she didn't want to touch it, and it had flung out its tongue at just the right instant to french him – were worth the initial discomfort, but didn't open her mind to him.

After the Froog incident, Kit had told Cheetara solemnly, "It takes a real cat to get kissed by a Froog and not scream."

Lion-O hadn't screamed, but he _had_ rinsed his mouth out six times. Cheetara had to hold a paw to her mouth the entire time to keep her laughter in check. Kit, for her part, had drawn him a picture of Snarf as a "thank-you-for-keeping-the-yucky-Froog-away" gift. He'd kept it and pinned it in his dorm room. It was cheery.

So, time passed. Professors dogged them. Tests came and went. He grew more and more attached to the motley group of cats.

As one of the most important heroes in history for the country of Thundera – involved in politics, business, and civil war among a hundred other things – Leo's birthday had been marked as a national holiday. It was on this patriotic day that Lion-O woke up, feeling Snarf wriggle against him, and understood that he had no school and no work for the day.

It was a blissful, beautiful feeling. Even the rather shrieky rendition of 'Hit Me Baby, One More Time' in the room above couldn't keep him from sighing, grinning, gathering an annoyed Snarf into his arms, and rolling over to sleep in for once. As payback, Snarf rolled insistently onto his back in expectation of a tummy massage. Lion-O wasn't sure how the thing had gotten so spoiled, but he acquiesced, and Snarf's musical purr was a perfect lull. A day where he could actually just sleep and not worry about anything like school, or even his job. A long, full day of rest and light studying to keep up with the latest lecture in chemistry-

His phone, resting on his nightstand, buzzed. He let it do so twice before convincing his sluggish paw to take it and bring it to his ear. "H'llo?"

"Lion-O?" It was Kit. Lion-O tried to wake up a little more, yawning once.

"Hey. What's up?"

"Do you have class today?"

"No." He yawned again, rubbing his eyes. "Why?"

"Well, see, the vet clinic is closed too, except for emergencies, and Jaga was going to get some spring cleaning and stuff done, only me and Kat don't know how to do half the stuff he needs to get done, and Cheetara's feeling real yucky, and Jaga needs help getting the kennels cleaned out, and I really don't like touching doo-doo, and-"

"Cheetara's sick?" Wow, he had _never _woken up that fast. Even when Tygra poured cold water on him to get back at him for taking his action figures without asking when he was eight. It made him dizzy for a second, and he blinked, Snarf meowing in dismay at his statement.

"Uh-huh. Jaga took her to the ER last night because she kept tossing her cookies, and the doctor said it was mild food poisoning. She's asleep now, because she got some stuff to help keep her cookies down and kill the germs, only it knocks her out. Anyway, I was wondering if you'd come help us with the cleaning, because she's the one who really knows how to do all this, and Jaga won't let us do some of the stuff."

Lion-O was already halfway into a pair of jeans, hopping while holding the phone to his ear. "On my way. Tell Jaga I'll help out."

Kit sighed. "Okay. I wish a boy liked _me _enough to help clean up doo-doo." She hung up and Lion-O managed to get into his jeans without breaking his neck. They were old, worn and faded. "Hey, Snarf. You want to help out today?"

Snarf sighed, as if very much wanting to shake his head, but instead bounded dutifully into Lion-O's backpack and popped his head back out of the pack. "Sna-Snarf."

"Thanks. It'll be easier to carry you on the bus that way." Oh, that left in five minutes. Whiskers. In retrospect it was hard to remember how he had managed to brush his teeth and get a shirt on in sixty seconds to get to the bus stop in time. Only when he arrived at the clinic – after trying not to meet the gaze of a couple of old women who muttered about, 'Delinquent boys and their holes in their jeans' during the trip – did he realize he hadn't combed his mane. Like, at all.

"Oh, shut up," he muttered when Snarf poked his head out just to cackle at him. He entered the building only to have Kit run to him, squealing her head off.

"Lion-O! Lion-O! Kat's being STUPID!" She grabbed hold of his paw and bounced up and down. "He's trying to make me sniff a towel and I KNOW it's got bird pee and stuff all over it! He's saying I have to sniff it or I'm a chicken!"

Lion-O stared at Kat, who was sulking, holding the cloth irritably. "Can't take a joke…"

"Okay. Give me the towel…" Lion-O said, taking it gingerly. It did indeed smell of bird excrement and Kit stuck her tongue out at her brother, hiding behind Lion-O afterwards in case her brother had anything else nasty to throw. "Where's Jaga?"

"In the back. He said we should try to…oh. We gotta whisper," Kat said, lowering his voice to a hiss, "because he wants Cheetara to get some sleep."

"You only have to whisper when you're right outside her room," Jaga said lightly, emerging from the pale, gleaming hall. "Although those pills will keep her out. I suppose sleep is the best way for her to recover."

"Is she okay? How bad was it that you took her to the ER?" Jaga's little smile beneath his whiskers made Lion-O feel really obvious, and he crossed his arms self-consciously. Oh, great, the towel touched his arm. Yuck.

"Bad enough that she was throwing up very often, but not so bad that she couldn't yell at me that she ought to have known better than to 'eat anything that was still mooing.' Don't eat the burgers at the joint down the block, in case you were wondering. The meat isn't always done right."

To Lion-O's surprise, he felt anger wash through his veins, scalding. "Bad enough to make her really sick! That's so irresponsible! Don't you need antibiotics for that!"

"Yes, yes, and the pills have antibiotic in them. The doctor said it was a very mild case but to watch her and give her plenty of fluids. Not that I didn't already know that, but one can't be too careful when it comes to Cheetara, can one?" The eyebrows lifted and Jaga's mouth quirked to the side. Lion-O's ears lowered, and his expression became irritated.

"You want me to clean out kennels or what?"

Jaga raised his paws in appeasement. "Dear boy, you're a lifesaver. If you must, go check on Cheetara while I get some disinfectant and gloves. Just be quiet when you do so."

Skirting around Jaga and winding his way through the back of the clinic, he entered their living quarters and put the towel in the dirty laundry. And washed his arm off. Then, slowing his pace very much, he opened the door to Cheetara's room and peeked inside.

He'd been in there before a couple of times before; Kit had insisted on him seeing it once, and Cheetara had helped him study for an economy exam in there. It was a feminine, tidy thing, books and novels and magazines resting on proper shelves, and her clothes were always hung neatly in her closet. And in her bed, under a brown comforter, Cheetara lay asleep.

Lion-O stepped inside and hovered by her bedside, peering down at her. Her brow and face were damp, and her fur and hair were ruffled. Breath came easily, but her brows met and she looked uncomfortable. Feeling a miserable twist in his gut, Lion-O meekly brushed her bangs out of her face. Then, he left the room, shutting the door delicately.

Jaga was there, arms full of bottles and sprays and gloves. "This is really quite gallant of you."

Lion-O shrugged, taking a few of the items to ease the older cat's burden. "What do you want me to do first?"

In only a minute, he found himself staring into the unlit kennel room. "A couple of days ago we had to hold a large number of untrained shelter animals, and we kept them in the kennels for the most part because we simply don't have much extra help around here and we had to make sure we got each one vaccinated before they were taken back to the shelter. We just got it emptied the yesterday, and with Cheetara getting sick I simply didn't have time to scrub them out. Since today is a holiday, I closed the clinic down so we could prepare for some incoming pets tomorrow. I can't get on my knees for hours at a time, and the Froog needs to be monitored, as it's laying its eggs today. A rather interesting thing to watch, if you can get past the fact that the sac that holds them together looks remarkably like very thin, filmy jelly. And I have a little project I'm just about to finish."

This place smelled like shelter animals. And now he had the mental image of the Froog expelling gooey eggs. Lion-O was really, really glad he'd missed breakfast. "So…this bottle to soften any stuff that's…hardened. And this one to kill the bacteria afterward. And then I rub it down and spray it with water to make sure the soaps come off, and I dry it?"

"You've got it. I'll start cleaning out the food dishes while the Froog gets settled. I could pay you, if you'd like."

Lion-O shook his head and stepped into the room. "You guys have been good to me. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't help out?"

"Cheetara will be impressed." Jaga's small smile made him flush, and Lion-O flicked on the lights as the old cat retreated, wondering if he had a sign on his forehead that openly spelled out his innermost thoughts.

Oh dear. On each wall were two rows of kennels, ten kennels to each row. A few of them hadn't been occupied, but the many that had apparently had _very_ messy inhabitants. Inhabitants that hadn't elected to potty when released into the play rooms with litter boxes.

That was…a lot of kennels. That was…a lot of dirt and fur and feces.

This was going to take a while. But whatever he didn't do, either Jaga or Cheetara would end up having to do. Thinking of her, looking sick and miserable as the medication kept her under, he knelt and pulled on the gloves Jaga had brought, along with the slippers.

"Snarf." He looked down to see Snarf waddle in on his hind legs, a pair of gloves bagging around his forelegs and a tiny surgeon's mask tied to his face. In one paw he clutched a rag, and in the other he held a stiff toilet brush. "Snar-Snarf-Snarf," he added, nudging the pile of cleaning supplies with his tail, and Lion-O spotted a mask obviously meant to keep him from inhaling the debris while cleaning.

He picked it up and strapped it on. "You gonna help out?"

"Snarf!" A brisk, fierce nod, accompanied by a quick hug to the lion's ankle made Lion-O grin.

"You're getting your own plate of chili next payday, buddy." Snarf trilled, and they turned to face the room like two heroes facing down a foe.

* * *

><p>Jaga had said he could use as much soap as he needed to get the smell out, and Lion-O used half a bar before he felt sufficiently clean. It was an interesting thing, using somebody else's shower. It told him that Jaga like Old Spice and Cheetara like floral scent shampoos, as bottles of the two rested serenely by each other on the counters. He hadn't noticed that the first time he'd been in their restroom.<p>

After he seared away the dirt and various unmentionable substances that had gotten into his fur and mane, Lion-O climbed out of the shower to find a pair of ragged jean shorts – an old pair of Jaga's, he assumed – and a baggy gray sweater waiting for him. In spite of the fact that the sweater looked more suitable for winter, not to mention looked so out of date that his own blue turtlenecks would have shunned it, Lion-O donned it and the shorts, breathing in the smell of clothes that didn't have strange filth caked into the seams and threads.

Snarf sat peaceably on the closed toilet, wrapped in a thick towel and enjoying the steam in the room as his owner dressed. For once, he had been all too delighted to hop into a sink and be scrubbed down. Now that Lion-O was done removing half his epidermis, Snarf jumped down and shook himself, damp fur sticking up wildly. "Snarf."

"Tell me about it. Ten hours, but we're done." The floor had been mopped by the kittens, who were only too happy to tie scrub brushes to their feet and skate around the room like in the cartoons. They had been graceful, and Lion-O had watched in bemusement as he cleaned out the floors of the pens.

"I can be a ballerina with poise like this," Kit had proclaimed. Her brother had then tripped her so she fell onto Snarf, and she retaliated by grabbing his –Kat's – tail and dunking it into the bucket of soapy water and proceeding to use it to scrub out one of the corners of the room.

Lion-O had managed to pry them apart after about thirty seconds of clawing and hissing, and they'd finished their part of the job and stalked off, separate and silent, leaving him be so he could finish the kennels and help Jaga with the bird cages and their newspaper linings, and the few tanks that the jaguar had been unable to finish on his own. Now, he heard Kit in the bird room and Kat in the amphibious room with Jaga, feeding the Froog and its ilk. Examining his mane – clean, but as ludicrous as Snarf's wild coat – Lion-O elected to ignore it. His skin felt raw, and his arms ached, though the hot water had really helped. His back would be killing him tomorrow, but that was okay.

If Cheetara got more rest and felt better, any of it was okay.

The faint rapping of elderly knuckles against the bathroom door made him open it, holding the wet towels in his fist. The smell of air freshener and some kind of pasta hit him and Jaga eyed his mane. "Impressive. Dinner's ready; the absolute least I can do is make sure you and the kittens get a good meal. I'm in your debt. You know that, right?"

It was the first homemade meal Lion-O had seen in a month. Come to think of it, other than a sandwich from noon, it was technically his first meal that day. Jaga had made some kind of ravioli with salad and crescent rolls, the kittens finally agreeing to make up when they smelled dinner. To their utter delight, Snarf tied a napkin around his neck and – for their amusement – ate with a fork. "I wish I had some idea of what that thing _is_. He's not natural," Jaga marveled. Snarf grinned and merely meowed his compliments to the chef. At least, that was what Lion-O thought he said. "I can't find any mention in the world of what he might be. Out of all the books I own!"

"What's in this, Jaga?" Kat asked, cutting open one of the ravioli noodles to peer at the cheese and sauce within.

"About four different kinds of cheeses. A little garlic. And some spinach mixed in; you need to eat more greens, kids." In spite of the mention of the dreaded vegetable, Kat popped one bite into his mouth and stared vacantly ahead. "What's wrong?"

"It's…so…good." Kit glanced at her stunned brother and took a bite after putting her napkin in her lap.

"_Wow_." She didn't say much else, but the way they tore into the dinner seemed to please Jaga more than anything.

Lion-O managed to keep his manners better than the kittens. Oh, whiskers, elbows. He always forgot his elbows. Was forearm against the table rude too? "Thank you. It's really great, honestly. How did you have time to make it?"

Jaga shrugged at him from across the table, scooting the plate of crescent rolls toward Snarf so he could filch another. "I'm used to working quickly, and the longest part is simply waiting for the pasta to bake. Take some of the leftovers home with you; you're looking thin lately, Lion-O. I imagine you have a mini-fridge, and the commons has a microwave."

"That's really nice of you, but I couldn't. Maybe the kittens could," he said, watching as the two all but started licking the empty bowls. Jaga gently took their bowls, carried them to the counter and refilled them, scooping out several ladlefuls from the pan. They continued digging in, and Snarf shook his head at the display of poor table manners.

"If I have my way, these kids are going to be staying here permanently. And no," he added when they halted and jerked their heads up to stare at him, "I'm not reporting you to the police or child protection agency. I am, however, nearly finished clearing out a room in the back. It's small, but there's enough room for a bunk bed and a dresser for clothes. That's one reason I didn't help out much today."

Kat and Kit exchanged glances and the clink of silverware stopped. In spite of the fact that they both had ravioli sauce on their chins, the look was almost scary in how shocked it was. Jaga gazed quietly at them, and Lion-O's eyes trailed from one considering face to the other.

"You mean…you want us to stay…all the time? But you'd get in trouble if the police found out," Kat said, his sister nodding. Their tails twitched, brushing from side to side nervously. "And we don't wanna bother you."

"I'd be in trouble if they found me now anyway. You two have no idea how much it frightens us that you run off and we don't hear from you. I know you're smart, but you two need a home where the people know where you are at all times. Cheetara agrees with me; she wants you two to get an education, and we can home school you for a little while at least while we look for a way to formally adopt you without putting you into the system. And you lot are never a bother," he added softly.

The sheer hugeness of Tretierra suddenly struck Lion-O. That orphans could run around the city without ever being caught, even while schools were open, was a very scary thing indeed. He had always seen the twins when he came to visit; he hadn't known how often they left to stay wherever they went. Of course, he'd seen Jaga and Cheetara doing tiny things to make the place more appealing to the twins – toys, new clothes, the audio book and such. Kat stared at Jaga with calculating eyes that reminded Lion-O very much of Tygra. "We're _not_ getting into the foster system. They might separate us."

"I really don't think they'd do that, guys," Lion-O interjected softly. "Not when there's a respectable cat in the community who's already cared for a granddaughter wanting to take you in."

Kit shook her head, staring at her newly filled bowl. "If they investigate him to see if he'd take good care of us, they might find out he was letting us stay here all this time without telling the police. Then he'd be in trouble and we'd be stuck."

The clear understanding in her voice made him look to Jaga. "I understand, kids. But I do want you to live here, unofficially if you must. Your safety is what we're worried about, and at least we can teach you and take care of you if you stay." Kit sat an elbow on the table, pausing to wipe her chin.

"I take care of Kit," Kat said, voice low and strangely afraid. Jaga turned his head and caught Kat's eye like he was a bird, and Lion-O suddenly knew where Cheetara had picked up that piercing stare from.

"Yes, you do. But we want to help take care of both of you. We love you both a great deal," he said, patting Kat's head. The twins stilled and glanced at each other again, and Lion-O almost wanted to cry at the troubled, hopeful set of their mouths.

"…Okay," they said in unison, and they hopped up at the same time to hug Jaga. Snarf squealed, and clambered off his chair – he'd been sitting and watching in front of his own bowl – to jump into Lion-O's lap, as if demanding affection as well.

Lion-O patted Snarf's head and felt relief rush into him. If Kat and Kit were really going to stay here, they would be safe. But now he felt as if he were intruding on something personal, and he slipped out of his chair to back out of the room.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jaga asked. He beckoned with a paw and Lion-O returned, Snarf wriggling in his grip.

"I just…you know, it seemed like…you know, this is for them. I thought maybe I was…"

"Young cat, get over here before I whup you." The jaguar got up and Lion-O half-grinned; their sweaters nearly matched and Jaga hugged him around the shoulders. "These children need a positive, young male influence around, and you provide it. You're one of the reasons they come here so often."

"You and Cheetara and Jaga are always nice to us," Kit said, hugging his side. "You guys sure you want us living here? Because, um…"

"We fight and make up. A lot. And Kit still pees the bed sometime."

Face going scarlet, Kit screamed. "YOU MEANIE! Why did you have to tell them!" Jaga laughed and held her head affectionately to keep her from flying at her brother's throat.

"Plenty of kids do that on occasion. Do you drink anything right before bed?"

She shuffled her feet, hiding her red face against Lion-O's hip. "Maybe."

"That's probably the trouble then. And I raised Cheetara for the most part; I'm used to children. That's simply part of being family," Jaga assured them. "Now finish eating. I've got ice cream in the freezer."

The twins returned to their chairs immediately, and Lion-O set Snarf back in his seat before sitting down again. "So we're officially – not legally – family?" Kat asked, kicking at the rungs of his chair.

Jaga nodded. "Cheetara and I consider all three of you very dear to us." Lion-O nearly dropped his fork, but when he looked back up Jaga was glancing at Snarf. "Forgive me. Four, I suppose." Snarf smirked and lashed his tail. Lion-O blinked a couple times, thinking about the words Jaga had used.

The four of them? Perhaps Jaga had not intended it, but those words hit him somewhere south of his esophagus and north of his diaphragm, and the house seemed to somehow draw near and friendly as he tried to make sense of that statement.

The kitchen wasn't fancy, but it was warm. It wasn't large, but it was comfortable.

And though Lion-O would have felt like the biggest cornball ever if he had actually said it, even though this place wasn't his home…it still felt like _home_. It sounded like kittens and smelled like pasta and air freshener, and the whole thing just filled him like the word 'home' alone could.

* * *

><p>Cheetara opened her eyes. The room was blurry, her head was pounding, and her tongue was dry. She turned her head and saw a cup of ginger ale on her stand. "Thanks, Jaga," she sighed in relief. Shifting into a sitting position, she picked it up and took a long draught. The nausea had faded, and she glanced at the pills beside her lamp; wait until the headache left before taking any more.<p>

What time was it? Cheetara slid her legs out from under the comforter and stood, slightly unsteady. Ten at night, according to her clock. What had Jaga done all day, trying to clean and watch after the kittens? The thought filled her with dread, and she headed to the door, smoothing the stomach of her pajama shirt as she went. Though it was incredibly unwise, she turned down the hall to enter the kennel room and see how many he'd managed to scrub out. She would see to the rest tomorrow; Jaga was getting old, and being on his knees to scrub out the floors would have been killer with his arthritis.

Cheetara flicked the light switch, and when the room grew white with the light, she stared.

Clean. Each and every one of the stainless steel kennels and their plastic coverings were completely without dirt, dried and set with new food dishes for the animals due tomorrow. Slightly awed, she bent and examined one at random, noticing the white tile floor and how it gleamed just outside the kennels.

Had the kittens helped? The idea of Kit acquiescing to go near the stink of animal feces – she could do a lot, but she drew the line at "doo-doo" – didn't make sense. These cages had been emptied of animals only yesterday, and the cleaning procedure was always a nasty business. Had Jaga possibly done all these on his own?

Cheetara left the room, snapping off the light. The Froog in the amphibian room croaked, and she poked her head into the room; it looked clean, resting in its tank, as if it had been bathed. Its eggs sat in the tank beside it, kept warm and immersed. Apparently they'd come out fine. The other amphibious creatures looked happy, each fed and many with clean tanks. She checked in the next room in the corridor to see that all the bird cages had new newspaper lining their bottoms, and she shut the door.

How in the flipping world had all this gotten done? Stopping by the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and rinsed her face, appreciating the feeling of cold water. Some of the towels they kept in the bathroom closet were gone, as if someone had showered recently. The smell of the cat was familiar, but amidst soap and shampoo it was hard to distinguish the identity.

The sound of reserved chatter in the sitting room drew her attention, and she rubbed the bridge of her nose as she headed toward it after rinsing her mouth out, puzzled mind running a blank. Kit and Kat were sprawled on the floor, working on a set of coloring books, crayons dotting the carpet. Their tails swished in the air as they spoke, and Cheetara tilted her head. "Guys?"

Their heads turned and Kit scrambled to her feet. "Hi Cheetara. You feeling better?" she whispered. Cheetara shrugged one shoulder, and Kit darted to her side. "You've been asleep all day. We were worried about you."

"Yeah, Lion-O kept checking in on you all day. And Jaga gave you little bits of ginger ale." She frowned.

"Lion-O? Was he here?"

"Still is. That's why we're whispering." Kat pointed to the sofa, and for the first time Cheetara stepped around the coloring books to see it.

Lion-O was completely out of it, head on the armrest and one paw dangling off the couch. In his lap Snarf was sprawled with his feet in the air, tail twitching as he dreamed. Cheetara covered her mouth to hide a smile; head tilted back a little, Lion-O snored quietly. "What was he doing here?"

"Helping Jaga. I called him this morning because we needed help. He ran to catch the bus and come here. Look at his mane; he forgot to comb it," Kit added, giggling. "I told him you were sick and he was here really fast."

"You mean Lion-O helped Jaga today? On his day off?" she asked. Kit nodded dreamily.

"He likes you enough to clean up pet doo-doo. That's a real cat." Kit continued after some thought, "He cleaned out the bird cages, too. And he played checkers with us."

"And Jaga made us ravioli for dinner," Kat added thoughtfully. "We helped Lion-O and Snarf clean the kennel floor, and then me and Kit fought, but we made up now."

"Jaga got all his files done, and he got the tanks and bird cages done. We were all really busy. I vacuumed too, see?" Kit said proudly. Cheetara scanned the room, taking in the tidy sight.

"Guys, you did great. I mean…everybody got everything done. Did Lion-O _really _come over here just to help out because I was under the weather?"

Kit beamed. "Uh huh. He was worried about you. He got real mad about how the burger place made you sick. He said it was 'irresponsible' of them." Giving Cheetara a coy look, Kit said, "You gonna wake him up? He's real sleepy."

Cheetara looked him over, noticing how his mane stuck out in every direction and how Snarf looked positively comical in his comfort. "No. If he did all that, he definitely deserves some sleep." From the back of the cough she took one of the folded quilts and carefully draped it over him, picking up Snarf and setting him back on top of the blanket, folding the cloth under his chin. Kneeling, she took his dangling paw and set it on his front. "Kit, run and get me a clean pillow from the closet."

With some gentle maneuvering, she tilted his head forward enough to slide the cushion behind it. Lion-O sighed but didn't stir. Snarf opened one eye and rolled enough to crawl onto his owner's abdomen, splaying himself like a star on his tummy, as if to absorb the most warmth he could from his owner. For the first time, Cheetara noticed the sweater Lion-O was wearing was one of Jaga's, along with the ragged shorts. Her eyes lingered on his right paw, resting on his chest and the old fashioned sweater.

Kit swayed from one foot to the other. "You want me to get Jaga? He can make some soup for you before you take the rest of the medicine." Cheetara nodded, nudging the back of Kit's head and then Kat's.

"Thanks guys. You need to get to bed, too. Are you staying for the night?"

"Uh huh. Actually…Jaga wants us to stay for good." Cheetara paused and watched them as they somewhat shyly twisted and fidgeted. "He said you want us to stay here too."

In answer Cheetara smiled and nodded. "I knew he was going to ask. So what do you think?"

Their big eyes looked a little bit nervous. "We wanna stay. Jaga showed us the bunk bed. It's cool."

Cheetara sighed, an easy happiness in the motion. She knelt and tugged them close in a hug, saying, "I'm so glad." At that they brightened intensely, Kit nearly hopping.

"Lion-O's got class tomorrow at nine, so we need to wake him up at eight to catch the bus back." Kat tugged his sister's arm and they both hurried off toward Jaga's office. "Let's tell Jaga Cheetara woke up." Cheetara watched them go before looking back to Lion-O, listening to faint sound of his breathing.

"Thank you." He didn't wake up, but his mouth might have twitched at the words. She glanced at Snarf, who had one gem bright eye fixed on her. With a little grin, she stroked between the beast's ears, scratching behind them. He sighed happily and shut the eye. Cheetara brushed Lion-O's mane back and lowered her head, planting a gentle kiss on his brow. She paused; a faint purr emanated from deep in his chest, and made Snarf stretch and purr along.

She left Snarf and Lion-O on the couch, letting them sleep. After all they'd done that day, they'd earned it.

* * *

><p>1 – When I first saw 'Legacy' I thought, "The cool part about being Panthera other than being beautiful and kicking tail? Dating a guy that's prettier than you. Bad part about being Panthera? Dating a guy that's prettier than you." Am I the only one who thought Leo was really purty? I thought he was purty.<p>

I'll stop now. Next note.

2 – Never saw Silver Hawks, but I know a lot of fans of that show were quite excited by the bird beings from 'Legacy.' Some sort of reference, I think?

3 – I debated on the characters wearing shoes or not, but I really like the bare feet for some reason. More catlike. Perhaps they'll wear shoes later.

4 – I want to say, "Lonely guy cat" here, but since they're all cats and Snarf is a thingamajig, I can't, now can I?


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own a nip of it, although I suppose that this gargantuan experiment is a bit nifty, and rather different from what one might ordinarily find. I can't lay claim to any music, brands, books, shows, or any other such things that appear.

Okay, since I was planning a lot of this earlier, I've had Christmas on the brain. I love Christmas, so excuse the fact that most of this happens around that time. It's an AU, remember. More Lion-OxCheetara in this one and the next one – more in the next one, really – so a belated Merry Christmas to those fans. My little gift to you. Warning; oncoming chapters in mirror may have more sadness than they first appear.

I know it took a while, but there's approximately _sixty-four _pages in this chapter alone. So again, patience is always appreciated.

Okay, before it comes up; Tygra has some mean points in this chapter. _Do not interpret this as Tygra bashing._ If you watch the show at all, you know that he has a definitely cruel side, just as Lion-O has an immature side. The characters develop, and things change. Please, for the love of Pete, do not assume I am bashing Tygra. I like him well enough and find him to be an interesting character. But to write him IC, I have to write him occasionally being a jerk.

Also, it'll be my birthday soon. Hooray. So just remember that if you're wanting to send off, "I hate Lion-OxCheetara, it's not canon!" Remember, this _is _a fanfic my dears. Enjoy the chapter and know that the others are under development, and that college is eating my time. Like a gourmet dessert.

Also, I have news about the YGO fandom. It is not good news, and it makes me sad, but it will be in my profile as soon as I figure out exactly how to write it. If you don't like YGO, this does not apply to you.

* * *

><p>"<em>When your love is pouring like the rain, I close my eyes and it's gone again. When will I get the chance to say, 'I love you?' I pretend that you're already mine, that my heart ain't breaking every time I look into your eyes."<em>

'_Gotta Get Through This,' Daniel Bedingfield_

* * *

><p>Lion-O discovered three things over the summer after he survived his first semester. The first was that he would have Professor Panthro again in the fall, this time for an engineering class that involved a great deal of construction and experimentation. The fact made him groan simply because while the cat could be interesting and was incredibly clever, he also assigned more work than any other teacher, ever. But if he was honest with himself, he looked forward to it even so.<p>

The second thing he discovered was that while it was usually only small pets permitted in the dorms, since nobody could classify exactly what Snarf was, it wasn't technically against the rules for him to keep him. So he worried less about the little creature being confiscated, and Snarf was well behaved, acting like a perfectly decent whatever-he-was. And he stopped freaking out around strangers, and it actually got to the point where the dorm kids actually petted Snarf whenever Lion-O took him out for a walk or to go to the bathroom. It was kind of a relief.

The third was that when Cheetara wore mildly more revealing tank tops and raggedy shorts to the knee while visiting during July to keep cool, he had to glue his eyes to the wall. The first day she came over, he had been reading the textbook for one of his three summer classes, and had opened the door to let her in, only to realize that his eyes had widened to rather huge proportions. "I know you have class tomorrow, but the kittens wanted to see if you could come with us to get ice cream. And Jaga said these dorms sometimes have bad AC, so he wanted me to ask if you wanted to stay with us during the heat wave," she added, looking worried. She had her mane in a ponytail, and it showed off her neck. He'd nearly been too distracted by the attractive way said neck curved perfectly into her feminine shoulders and torso to pay attention, but he'd kicked himself and agreed to go. After that he'd gotten used to seeing a bit more of her torso and instead been able to talk to her without looking like a complete nut job.

Sleeping on the couch in the air conditioning had been pleasant. The fact that he was sleeping in her house had been a little unnerving. And it was interesting to wake up to kittens jumping on him and telling him, "Get up, we got waffles! You've got ten minutes before the bus!"

Kit and Kat were over the moon about living with Cheetara and Jaga. It was more common now to see toys in the sitting room, and children's books had migrated from their storage room to the shelves. The kittens still liked to roam, but their circles of exploration grew smaller, or they brought Cheetara and Jaga – or Lion-O, when he was around – with them if they wandered far. One of the most fun things about the summer was taking them to get ice cream; it was funny in a twisted sort of way to see which one would win their contests of trying to eat the ice cream fastest. They usually got brain freeze, teeth chattering, and then went right back to scarfing down the cold treat, no matter how many times Cheetara scolded them. Neither of them liked it in the evenings when Cheetara sat them down for a few hours to read and practice mathematics, but they were clever, so learning was not terribly hard.

He spent a lot of the summer working at the local pool, since the campus bookstore was only open on the weekends for summer classes and he rarely got that shift. When fall rolled around, he got more hours, but the pool was a nice option for the hot months. Usually he manned the concessions stand in the air conditioning, so he didn't have to holler at kids who were running. Clean up the occasional puke spot, sure, but that was all right.

It would have been nice if he had known Cheetara was bringing the kittens to the pool toward the end of the first week. Then he might not have heard the kittens greet him, turned around and made a noise somewhere between a yelp and a squeak.

Well, he'd never seen Cheetara in a swimsuit. It had been a perfectly decent one piece, white and feminine, and her thick mane was bound back in a braid that trailed over her shoulder, but like a lot of teenage boys, Lion-O's brain went places he didn't necessarily want it to before he could stop it. With a surprised smile, she had said, "Hey! We didn't know you worked here!"

To prevent his eyes from wandering over her, he had immediately turned around, trying to appear as if he was rearranging items under the counter when really he was just trying to hide the fact that his paws were shaking. "Um, yeah. Just for the summer. Did you guys want snow cones or something? They're on sale for fifty cents each."

Lion-O prayed he hadn't seemed rude. He had to keep his eyes off her – at least, anywhere below her collar bone – or he'd probably do something stupid like trip over himself. She hadn't commented on his twitchy behavior, but he knew that she was entirely too observant not to notice the fact that he moved as if his eyes had been magnetized to face eye level and his neck was suddenly unable to bend.

The kittens hadn't noticed, too busy smearing the syrupy snow cones on their faces. Thank goodness. And yet, oddly, even though Lion-O forced himself to look only at Cheetara's face and turned his head away when he couldn't…

He got the strangest feeling she was impressed by something.

Maybe he was delusional. Could chlorine fumes induce such things?

The summer classes were a little lazy, and left him plenty of time to work and carefully, carefully, spend time around the kittens and Jaga and Cheetara. And Snarf too, of course. He preferred warmer months, as did the rest of them, and there were many evenings spent in the local park. Other than the odd graffiti that had been painted over the slide it was a relatively nice place. Jaga would bring sandwiches, chips and Frisbees, and they'd spend hours there, in that dusky time between evening and night.

It was during those times of lightning bugs and games and wilted leaves that Lion-O was happiest. When the sky was mauve and he sat in the grass – prickly from lack of water, but cooling in the shade – it was easy to think that things would always be that way, and they would always be close and happy.

It was also during those times that he talked with Cheetara, and slowly – very slowly – eased himself into talking about home, and family, and rather more personal topics. He skirted mentioning the constant battle between him and Tygra, his uneasy relationship with Dad, and the fact that when all was said and done he wasn't sure he wanted the mantle of the company placed on his shoulders.

The closest he came to admitting such things came when she asked if he was visiting home for the summer. Not wanting to lie, but not quite able to distinguish the truth himself, he had said, "I don't think I can get the time off. And I'm sure they're fine. I call them once a week."

She had frowned, perching her chin in her paw as she leaned against one of the many wooden picnic tables. "It almost sounds like you don't want to go home."

That wasn't it. Not exactly. But he simply bit his lip and said, "Well, it's…it's all kind of hard to explain. Even to myself. I love Dad and Tygra, but it's not always easy being around them."

"Around family?" He hadn't answered for a moment, watching a lightning bug settle on her arm. She glanced at it and watched it glow, brushing it gently into the air after a few second. The motion drew his gaze along her arm, to her shoulder with the tank top strap and the dark, beautiful spots in her fur. The sight transfixed him, eyes lingering.

Finally, he replied, "I wouldn't say we're dysfunctional, but we've got some problems." She hadn't pressed him after that. He had wanted very badly to reach out his paw to touch her fingers, but he felt too young and too secretive to do so in good conscience. So he settled for gazing at her out of the corner of his eye, noting those dark spots and the way her nose wrinkled when she laughed as Snarf performed fantastic aerobic feats in order to catch the Frisbee Kat was throwing to him.

He liked it when they stayed until after dark, watching the night sky. The sky here had very few stars, sparse little bits of light. Pantherle's stars were plentiful, in the countryside an hour outside the city. But the sky here was dark and beautiful, and sometimes they simply lay back in the grass and talked. He found out several things about her; she liked flowers, her favorite time of year was the hottest part of summer, she'd finished a two-year degree under Jaga's tutelage so she could help with the clinic, and soon she would have the equivalent of a veterinary license. She looked more like her mom than her dad, but she took after him in personality more than her mom. He kept all these little things and filed them away, like a miner putting shards of gemstones in a safe, small place.

It was a surprise when, on his eighteenth birthday – which he would have forgotten if he hadn't scribbled it in his planner, and Tygra and Dad hadn't both called him and sent cards – Snarf suddenly seemed to have a severe pain in his paw. He called Jaga about it, who offered to see him immediately, even though it was seven in the evening and the clinic was closed for patients. He brought Snarf over and entered the lobby only to receive a face full of blue and red confetti, paw-cut from construction paper, and loud squeals of, "Happy Birthday!" from the kittens.

While he'd wiped the confetti out of his mane, Snarf had sniffed the air and purred, seeing what appeared to be a cake in the kittens' paws, messily frosted with chocolate icing and stuck all over the top with red candles. _Happy Birthday Lion-O!_ was probably what it was supposed to say, but the 'O' was more of a wonky set parentheses meandering off the edge. "Me and Kit did the icing and writing. Only we ran out of room, and the icing got stuck. Sorry it's not super-fancy."

It wasn't fancy. But the fact that the kittens had iced it themselves, painstakingly using cursive for his name, made it far more precious than any store bought cake could have been. They had all pitched in and gotten him some new clothes, for, as Jaga told him, "While holes in jeans are relatively trendy, I believe some of your pairs are starting to have more hole than jean to them." Cheetara had gotten him a book on the history of technological discoveries over the past three hundred years.

"This probably would have been more useful for Panthro Fides' history class, but it seemed right up your alley." He had been so excited he'd hugged her before regaining his senses and thanking her. But she didn't seem to mind.

It was not lost on him that Snarf suddenly recovered, paw as limber and spry as ever.

It turned out that Cheetara's birthday was at the very beginning of the year. He didn't know what he'd get her, but Lion-O was going to make it something special. The kittens shared a birthday of course, being twins, and he'd gotten them each an art set and sketch pads. They were not expensive, but they were what he could afford. And the kittens had been delighted with them.

Jaga just told him to keep Snarf healthy, and that was his birthday gift. "When you're as old as I am, you prefer people not to know your birthday."

Summer drew to an end. Visits to the park were rarer as the leaves turned red and orange and brown, autumn and chilly. The new classes were focused on economics, finance. Save one.

He _had_ debated with himself on taking Professor Panthro's engineering class. It was an introductory course on technology and computers, notorious for its difficulty. Getting into it had been incredibly easy, as so few people ever wanted to go for it.

He had a few electives he had to fill. And even though he knew he could never go into the study like he wanted, Lion-O thought it would be worth it to understand the basics of machinery and the technology – particularly theoretical – that he was so interested by. And even though he was kind of a grouch, Lion-O had gotten attached to the panther. He was familiar, and kind of reminded him of his dad.

"Welcome back, Mr. Rey. This class is a hard one. Be prepared to pull all-nighters."

For a one hundred level course, it was mind-bogglingly difficult and intense. However, it was also his most interesting class. In spite of the fact that he began to notice shadows were common under his eyes and he had the slightest addiction to caffeine, he didn't drop it.

If he didn't have to take over Thunder Enterprises, Lion-O would gladly have gone into the field(1). To build machinery and put his ideas into reality, to help people with them, had always been one of the things he'd fancied when he was at his most dreamy. To actually be the one doing it, building it with his own paws, would have been best.

Of course, it was never going to happen. But he took the class regardless and absorbed it all.

* * *

><p>"Hold up, everyone." Professor Panthro didn't have to raise his voice, as there were only ten students in the class. Lion-O paused, sticking his textbook into his backpack as the cat turned from the smart board and crossed his arms. "Anyone who's had this class before will tell you about my dreaded final, and the fact that it isn't some exam. I happen to think that, for a class like this, I should make sure you've learned something. Because I'm generous, I give you the instructions before you take your finals so you can go ahead and work on it. And then you have a week of class where you can basically do nothing but cram for your exam finals. Aren't I just peachy?"<p>

Lion-O felt the collective shudder run through the group. Professor Panthro paced across the room to his desk and picked up a large, thin sheet of paper, blue grid lines across it. "This is a perfect example of an A paper."

Lion-O blinked, and the class murmured; some type of machine was drawn on the page, inked with pages of notes attached to the back. "This student was attempting to design an electronic device that could be used to carry paper messages, rather like a carrier pigeon. Obviously things like cell phones and e-mail make this more bother than it's worth, but that isn't the point. The point is that the student was creative and willing to put in hours of work."

Panthro sat the page down. "I can't honestly tell you how to go about doing this. There isn't a line between too wacky to work and just loony enough I can write down for you. If you have any questions that come up while you're working, check the packet or come talk to me about your experiment individually. I'm giving you three weeks for this; I expect interesting results. Give me something to look forward to other than sticking C's on lazy work before Christmas."

With that he waved a paw, and the class understood that they were dismissed. Lion-O lingered, stepping away from them as they left to look at the blueprint.

It was neatly done, inked like a professional and diagrams of each unit out to the side. Reading the notes, he was surprised to realize he understood a great deal of it. Nobody could make you learn like Professor Panthro. The blueprint wasn't terribly different from his own rough drafts, though it was far more developed and official.

His blueprints. An idea hit him.

"Sir?"

"Mr. Rey?" Professor Panthro was writing at his desk. Lion-O paused, tugging at the hem of his own shirt in a small motion.

"What about…fuel for an experiment? Say we don't know what would power it, and we have an experimental idea. Would that be okay, if we explored it as much as we could?"

Professor Panthro glanced at him. "I take it you have something in mind?"

Lion-O watched his teacher's face as he said, "Thundrillium." A flicker of interest seemed to light the foggy eye. "I've been interested in it since it was discovered. The only thing is, I don't know a ton about it. I was wondering if you might know something."

Professor Panthro set his chin in a large paw, considering. "You're not trying to be a brownnoser, are you? I hate brownnosers."

Lion-O stiffened and tried not to growl. "No. I've been interested in it since they first started finding it. I think it would be neat if we could utilize it for clean energy, but I don't know enough about it, and I wouldn't be able to get any to examine it. I thought you might know about it because that seemed like the kind of thing you'd be interested in."

Chemistry had been a big letdown. The only person who had ever even heard of Thundrillium so far had been Tor, and while he was interested in it – nearly the same level of geekdom as Lion-O, he didn't care about chatting about it in public – the lab he was training with hadn't gone into it at all. It was funny, really; it was almost like the element was some kind of unknown disease, and nobody was really able to talk about it without squirming a little.

Setting his pen down, Professor Panthro tilted back in his chair, and for some reason the motion calmed Lion-O. "I'm always interested in the new discoveries in the technological and chemical world. And it's funny you mention Thundrilllium of all things; Thundrillium research hasn't been given any funding because in the past few years there's been a new CEO for Lizard Co. and his influence has been getting incredibly huge. He wants to produce his own source of energy, and Thundrillium utilization would really put a damper on his plans. So he's been making it incredibly hard to get at any research or samples of the element. Cut off competition, so to speak."

Lion-O stared. It wasn't just him being weird thinking that there was some kind of barrier around Thundrillium? Wow, first time for everything. "One guy can block all studies on an element?" Professor Panthro grinned.

"Unfortunately. It isn't even money that makes this guy so powerful. It's the fact that he's nuts. Brilliant, but nuts." Lion-O waited for him to continue. He didn't.

"What exactly do you mean, 'nuts?' Like, seeing things crazy? Or…"

"Perhaps 'crazy' is the wrong word – cruel, calculating and controlling are better ones. We all have little bits of those in us, but he's…well, you'd have to meet him to understand. Name's Mumm-Ra Ammit. I spoke to him a year ago at a business convention; Grune went as a representative for Claudus and asked me to go with him to check out the new companies and their owners."

Mumm-Ra. The name gave him a weird feeling along his shoulder blades, and he fought the urge to shudder. "Wow. So…you think Thundrillium could really be a good energy source?"

Professor Panthro fiddled with his pen. "Perhaps. I'm more interested in why exactly you think it might be."

Lion-O adjusted his backpack, looking at the blueprint again. "You're going to laugh at me."

"I suppose that's within the realm of possibility."

"I don't know. I just have a feeling about it. Like…you know that feeling you get when you know an answer to a question, even though nobody was expecting you to?" Professor Panthro shook his head. "Oh. Well, it's kind of like that. I just think there's something about it." Lion-O shrugged, suddenly feeling like a basket case. Then again, he was used to that.

Professor Panthro's eyes flickered over his face. "Intuition is an interesting thing. Sometimes it leads to great discovery, and sometimes it leads to spectacular failure."

Lion-O didn't quite know what to make of that. "…I guess."

"Just telling you. But then, I think you should mess with the idea if you want. I've wanted to study Thundrillium for a while, but it's impossible to get any; maybe your experiment will have something to it. You'll get points for originality at least." Professor Panthro picked up his pen again. "We can continue this discussion later if you wish. For right now, I have some essays to grade, and unfortunately many of them are messes and I can't be distracted as I dissect them."

In spite of the deadpan statement Lion-O grinned. "Okay. Have a good Thanksgiving, sir."

"Sure. Get outta here. E-mail me if you run into any problems." Lion-O obeyed, taking one of the packets of instructions and carrying it, tugging at his sweater to keep it down as he headed into the hall and then into the cold air of the outdoors.

* * *

><p>"Your total comes to sixty-five dollars and fifty-two cents. You can return the speech supplemental instruction text for a full refund within a week. Thank you, and have a Happy Thanksgiving."<p>

The leopard nodded his thanks and accepted the bag, trailing away in silence, eyes hooded. Lion-O couldn't blame him. Finals week was looming close – the second week of December – and save for Professor Panthro's class, he had finals in every one. And considering the monstrosity Professor Panthro had assigned, that wasn't really cutting anyone a break.

Just because he thought it sounded cool didn't make it easy to spend three hours a night on it.

He sighed through his nose and ducked under the counter to pull open the drawer and take out some more bags. Business slowed up when semesters weren't beginning or ending, but there was always the student dropping a class in the middle and buying flash drives and sweaters and such. He heard the other clerk – Feles, a serval girl with the tendency to trip and stammer around boys – nosing around in the shelves and putting books where they belonged(2). He looked around the store, smelling the paper and pondering on whether or not he ought to try to start rearranging the returned books for the next shift. The guy didn't come on for another hour, but the place wasn't busy, so he started sorting the books on the counter, separating hardbacks from paperbacks.

The store was small and pleasant, with clean pale carpet and glass set in the wooden framework of the entrance walls, making it so people outside could see the wares within from the front of the store. Shelves extended far back, containing books on everything from culinary arts to origami. Really.

He heard somebody move nearby, and assuming it was just Feles, he didn't look up.

"It's interesting how colleges always manage to charge more for things like flash drives and sweaters than is really reasonable, isn't it?(3)" Undertone, casual, the voice was familiar. Lion-O froze before he lifted his head and stared straight into the handsome, pale face of his brother.

Tygra looked the same as ever, fur groomed and neat compared to Lion-O's own moderately mussed mane. He was wearing a sweater, but unlike Lion-O he managed to pull off black turtle necks without looking nerdy for it. More of a casual, chic sort of intellect. His expression was lightly interested, somewhat friendly.

It had been months, and Lion-O was surprised to notice that actually had kind of missed Tygra.

"You know what they say; college is never cheap." Lion-O straightened, and Feles hopped from behind the shelf to see who he was talking to.

"Lion-O? Is someone-?" Catching sight of Tygra, she clammed up instantly, swallowing her words with a squeak, and ducked back again. "Um, I'm going to the back room! I need to organize it!"

Tygra watched her go in bemusement. "Uh…what was that about?"

Lion-O shook his head. "Feles is shy around guys." _Attractive_ guys would have been the proper explanation, but he didn't feel like seeing Tygra's face in light of that particular ego boost. "What brings you to Ome N.? Last I checked, Tygus University and Ome N. were in a heated battle for the basketball season."

Tygra smirked, and Lion-O wondered how exactly he managed to do that. Lion-O couldn't, not very well; perhaps there was a secret to it. Maybe he was missing a muscle in his mouth or something. "You do. Thanksgiving is coming up and I figured I'd check in on you. Dad wants both of us to come home for break, since you couldn't over the summer because of classes."

Aware that Feles was watching from the stock room to the back of the store, peeping out like a kitten, Lion-O carried a few of the books back there and opened the door to hand them to her. She took them and darted away again. "Oh. I only have class tomorrow and then I'm off. Same for you?"

"Yeah, I'm getting on a flight Wednesday night at eight. You coming or what?"

"The plane'll be booked by now." Tygra reached into his pocket and withdrew a slim piece of paper, extending it toward him. Lion-O scanned it and nearly sighed. Of course. "You got me a ticket?"

"You know us perfectionists; have to be ready for everything. Besides, I was pretty sure you'd say yes." Tygra's eyes narrowed. "You were planning on making your way to Pantherle, weren't you?"

"Of course." It had crossed his mind, and he knew it would have been pretty scummy of him not to want to go home for Thanksgiving. And he did miss Dad and Tygra.

But he had kind of wondered if, possibly…

No. Home was best. Lion-O nodded. "Thanks for getting the ticket. I've been busy working a project for class, and I haven't had much spare time lately."

"No problem. Pack tomorrow and I'll get you at four Wednesday evening. Customs might be kind of crowded since so many people are traveling." With that, his brother glanced up. "Not very busy right now, is it?"

Something like a smile marked Lion-O's face. "No, just the coffee shop across the way. Oh, and people buying flash drives. Final exams coming up."

"Ah. True." Tygra eyed the nearest bin of items. "Any particular reason they sell stuffed dolls here?(4)"

"No idea. I guess some people collect them. Those are about the only colorful things around here." Lion-O was aware of Feles' wide eyes from the back. Awkward conversation was awkward. "How's school for you?"

"Not bad. But let's wait until we get home before discussing school; Dad'll want all the details firsthand." Tygra was right. Besides, it was always better with another person around when Tygra talked. It generally meant less argument brewing between the two of them. Though it was interesting that they weren't starting to snipe at each other now.

Maybe Tygra had missed him too. A bit.

"Okay. Four Wednesday evening?" He paused. "Is it extra to bring a pet on the airline?"

Tygra's brows furrowed. "No, not if it fits in a carrier and you can keep it under your seat. Why?"

"Uh…well, I kind of adopted a pet. His name is Snarf, and he's really well behaved. About the size of a basketball," he added. Tygra frowned, and the crease across his brow made Lion-O want to sigh.

"You adopted a pet? How can you keep one on your budget? And…what kind of name is 'Snarf'?"

"He's…unusual. He doesn't eat kibble, and he's incredibly smart. And he came with the name, it wasn't my idea." Though there was nothing wrong with that name, really. Tygra didn't appear to agree.

"But what about vet visits? Is he healthy?"

Lion-O nodded. "I'm friends with the veterinarian. He actually asked me to take Snarf because he was such a handful, but he's pretty calm now." He didn't want to mention Jaga or Cheetara; Tygra had met Cheetara before, as he recalled her saying, and Lion-O didn't want to bring the memory of her back to the forefront of his brother's thoughts.

He just didn't. The idea made him nervous. Cheetara was somebody you couldn't forget.

"I guess you can bring him if you have a carrier. Does he travel?" Lion-O shrugged one shoulder.

"I'll explain everything to him. He'll be okay." Tygra didn't answer, just examining Lion-O's face.

"You look tired. Ome N. rough on a freshman?"

Lion-O blinked hard and said, "Not too bad. Couple late nights for studying." Tygra, he noted, did not look tired. Then again, time management was another of those things his brother excelled at. "So, four on Wednesday. I'll tell Snarf to behave."

Tygra nodded, making a face at the name again. "So what is he, exactly?"

"I don't have any idea. Neither does the vet." Tygra's brows lifted, and he seemed to laugh a little, though he didn't seem all that amused. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just that you took in an animal and you're not sure what it is. You haven't changed much." Lion-O stiffened; Tygra lifted a paw in farewell and turned around. "A few changes of clothes is all you'll need, unless you have an assignment." He had turned too quickly for Lion-O to try to figure out if he had meant that as an insult.

He always had before.

"Yeah. See you then." When Tygra was gone, Feles slowly exited the backroom, dark rings around her eyes positively the size of saucers, leaning over the counter to watch Tygra through the glass of the bookstore as long as she could, jaw hanging a little.

"That was the most gorgeous cat I've ever seen." Lion-O tried not to roll his eyes.

"My brother tends to elicit that reaction from girls in general." At that she blushed and he picked up more of the books to sort and return to the shelves.

* * *

><p>"<em>Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream – throw your teacher overboard and listen to her scream.<em>"

"Yes, that's very funny. Kat, what's eight times nine?"

"_Five days later she was chewing on her underwear, wished she had another pair, got eaten by a polar bear! _Seventy-two._"_

"It'd be a very cold stream if there was a polar bear near it. But you're right."

"You chew on underwear?"

"No. About the number."

"Five? Wow, I thought it'd take at least seven days for you to resort to eating underwear."

Lion-O smiled when Cheetara shut her eyes and buried her face in her paws. "They're hot tonight, aren't they?" She looked at him from her spot on the floor.

"You've no idea. You missed the debate about 'Harbor Street' and whether or not boys are rotten and made out of cotton.(5)"

Kit crossed her arms. "Boys like Kat are! Lion-O's not. He goes to college. The rest of the boys go to Jupiter." Kat made a face at her. Primly she stuck her nose up. "See? Kat, better get ready for space travel."

Cheetara put her paws up, sitting on the carpet with the air of one finally defeated. "Okay, guys. We're not getting anywhere. For homework you need to each do the sheets I wrote for you and read ten pages of the _Chronicles of Narnia_ book of your choosing. Go on and play." With shrieks of victory the kittens scrambled to their feet and sprinted to Lion-O, who had been lingering in the doorway in front of Jaga.

"Lion-O! Lion-O! Play Connect Four with us!" Kat begged, bouncing and pulling on his arm.

Kit elbowed him. "Dummy! We're supposed to ask if he wanted to come over for Thanksgiving first!"

"Oh yeah." Kat and Kit both lifted their paws to their mouths and mewled. "Will you come over for Thanksgiving?" they asked. Lion-O blinked, looking between the two.

"Sorry guys, but I'm going home for Thanksgiving." Well, official home anyway. It was depressing to see their tails sink and their little mouths morph into frowns.

"Aw…but it's supposed to snow this weekend! We wanted to go to park and build snowmen and ice skate and stuff, but Cheetara and Jaga have work on Saturday, so we can't go until Sunday because everything'll be crazy on Black Friday." Kat pouted and Kit stuck her lip out. "We thought maybe you'd take us."

Lion-O thought of the awkward conversations that would probably arise in the Rey household and said, "I wish I could be both places, guys. But I haven't visited home once."

"It's nice you're going home, then." Cheetara got to her feet, holding some of the books she'd been attempting to get the kittens to read. Lion-O was fascinated to see that she had tied her hair back in a ponytail again today, and that the effect accentuated her lovely neck. Her blouse was a neat, white button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to keep them out of the way. "Although it won't be the same here without you. We thought it would be nice if you could come over; maybe we can have a post-Thanksgiving dinner when you get back."

It felt like a drop of sunlight in his chest to hear that. It burned in a wonderful way. "That sounds really nice. I…wish I _could _come."

But he did need to go home. He did need to see Dad again. And Tygra. He'd missed them both.

It was just hard knowing that there would undoubtedly be some kind of argument. Because there always was. If he had come here, perhaps it would have been peaceful. As if she could read that thought, Cheetara patted his arm. "Come on, it'll be great to see your family again. Is your brother going home too?"

"Yeah. Me and Tygra and Dad." A flammable combination. Well, he and Tygra were, at any rate. "I'm leaving tomorrow evening at four, so I just wanted to see you guys before I left. Wednesday evening to Sunday at one."

"Oh! Oh! Can Lion-O come with us to the park on Sunday? Please, please?" Kat and Kit were meowing again, dancing around him. "Come on, please? Cheetara isn't any good at throwing snowballs, and if it's just us two we'll fight!"

"I'm not that bad at throwing snowballs," Cheetara muttered, and it was kind of funny to see her cross her arms as if offended. "You two aren't going to the park alone. And he'll be getting off a plane, guys. I mean, if he wants to it's fine, but…"

Kit and Kat were practically dangling from his arms by now. "Well, I think I can do that. I'll have to drop off my luggage at the dorm first, but I'll go with you guys after that." His back bent under their combined weight as they held on and swung around, cheering. Cheetara caught Kat and gently removed him from Lion-O's arm and then Kit, who held on a little longer. "They're excited about Thanksgiving?" he asked.

Cheetara nodded, watching the two as they bounded into Jaga, begging for a game. "It's the first one we'll have celebrated together. I make homemade stuffing, and every year I manage to forget an ingredient." Lion-O gave her a slightly incredulous look.

"Really? I can't imagine you forgetting anything." _Oh gee, cornball alert._

Cheetara shook her head. "When it comes to animals, never. Homemade food? Bad idea. But I don't want Jaga to do it all, and I still hold out hope that one day I'll get it right." She glanced over his shoulder. "Checkup for Snarf?"

Snarf – who had wisely lingered behind him in order to avoid the exuberant energy of the kittens – stepped forward, face stoic. Lion-O sighed through his nose when Snarf avoided his paw as he knelt to pet the creature. "Yeah. He's going with me in a carrier. He…doesn't seem happy about it." To show his displeasure, Snarf stepped over to Cheetara and sat down, back to his owner. "Oh, come on Snarf, I can't just let you wander the plane."

Cheetara smiled and knelt beside Snarf, who had his nose in the air as he faced away. She winked at Lion-O, who suddenly felt warm and curious. "No, Lion-O, you shouldn't put Snarf in a carrier. He hates the very idea." Snarf, in surprise, nodded vigorously. "I've got a better idea; we can keep him at the clinic all weekend long. Sure, he'd have to stay in a kennel most of the day, and eat kibble for every meal because I probably can't convince Jaga otherwise for a booked pet, and he wouldn't see you for days because you'd be a flight away, but anything would be better than-"

Snarf keened in horror, jumping away from her and back toward Lion-O, into his arms. Cheetara's tone was innocent as she said, "Why, Snarf, I thought you didn't want to get in a carrier! Wouldn't you prefer to stay here?"

"Snarf-SNARF!" Lion-O understood the creature to be saying, "No-WAY!" He laughed, scrubbing easily between Snarf's ears.

"It won't be so bad. I'll let you have a copy of the newspaper so you can read and…well, you know. And it's only a two hour flight." Snarf reluctantly nodded, flopping over Lion-O's knee as if he were dying, melodrama heavy in the motion. Cheetara shook her head.

"Snarf, you're so spoiled." She then nudged Lion-O's shoulder with her paw, gently. "Hey, it really _is _good you're going home for Thanksgiving, you know? I know you've said you guys don't exactly hit it off, but still."

"Yeah. I know. I'm just kind of nervous – I haven't seen Dad in ten months. We've e-mailed and talked on the phone, but I haven't actually visited." He picked Snarf up and stood, eyes following her as she beckoned with the wave of a paw and sidled around him in the hall to head toward the clinic's exam rooms. She brushed against his side and he waited for her to pass before following. "I just don't know what to say."

"Just ask how he's been. Be honest. I'm sure you'll have plenty to talk about." She opened the door and headed through, and Lion-O placed Snarf on the examination table that loomed before him like some medieval torture table. It was clean, stainless steel, and the counters were cool sea foam green. Snarf sat, eyes hooded with boredom, as Cheetara opened one of the cabinets to get some gloves. "So, Snarf. Any pains or sniffles or anything?"

"Snarf."

"That was a no," Lion-O interpreted, watching her back as she slid the gloves on and turned again to face the table. She leaned on it, arms braced against the edge.

"I'm glad you understand him, because it's usually not so easy to figure out where the problem is. Makes the exam easier if I don't have to poke around and figure out what hurts." Cheetara gave him a Snarf a friendly nudge under the chin and rubbed along his back, hunting for any bumps or abnormalities. "Lion-O doesn't abuse you, does he?" Snarf nodded, hugging one of his ears with crocodile tears winking along his eyelids. Lion-O rolled his eyes and Cheetara made a clicking noise of disapproval with her tongue. "Lion-O, you horrible person you. Eating okay?" Snarf nodded, opening his mouth so she could look at his teeth. "Why I bother asking…your coat looks good. Oh, still brushing your teeth, nice. No tooth aches?" He shook his head, shutting his mouth and rolling over so she could feel his stomach. "Hm. You might have to go on a diet, Mr. Ham." He snorted, flicking his tail at her. "Is that for the comment, or the coming thermometer?"

Snarf cringed, and Lion-O sympathetically held his sides. "Sorry Snarf. Part of my job," Cheetara said.

It took about thirty seconds, ten of which involved yowling and a thermometer in a rather personal place on Snarf. But he didn't bite or claw, and when Cheetara offered him an apologetic slice of cheese to eat he patted her wrist to inform her all was forgiven. After that, the exam was smooth sailing and Snarf was given a clean bill of health as always.

The kitchen smelled of graham crackers, and Lion-O watched the kittens color at the table and intermittently dunk the crackers in mugs of milk before nibbling on them like chipmunks. Cheetara stripped the plastic wrap from the promised cheese, eying the picture from above Kat's head. "That looks good. Is it Snarf?"

"Uh huh. He's shooting lasers at a bunch of warrior robot pirates. They're trying to kidnap the princess in Kit's picture." This statement seemed to make sense to Cheetara, whereas Snarf shook his head from the floor, accepting the cheese as Cheetara handed it down before turning to Kit's picture.

"Nice princess." Kit grinned.

"I'm gonna give her a bow and arrow. I'm tired of all these princesses always waiting around for boys to save them." Cheetara nudged her approvingly. "A princess can save her boyfriend too, right?"

"Sure. I like stories where they help each other, though." As she spoke she took out the scrunchie holding her mane back, sliding it over her wrist. It was a casual thing, just because evening was drawing in and the house was not as warm as it had been, but Lion-O noticed it as if there were a spotlight on her. Her mane draped over her back and shoulders, and he admired the way the light rolled along it. She pointed to one part of the picture. "Why is she wearing a helmet under her tiara?"

"Because she's roller skating. You didn't think she was gonna walk to find her boyfriend, didja?"

"How silly of me. Nice to know she taking proper safety steps." Cheetara's lips curved away from her teeth in amusement. "Ah. An evil Froog in the background? Is he heading the evil robot pirates?"

"You know it." Kit suddenly looked thoughtful. "Maybe she gets captured after saving her boyfriend and then her boyfriend has to rescue her back. Y'know, break out of the prison so they can team up and beat up the Froog monster."

"Whatever you like." Cheetara looked up, at him, and Lion-O automatically averted his gaze, realizing he'd been staring. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I should probably head back to my dorm. Are you sure you don't want me to pay for Snarf's checkup? Because I-"

She held up a finger and put it to his mouth. "How many times have we had this discussion?"

Lion-O glanced to the side, considering. "Seven times, I think." Speaking against her finger made him wonder what she would have done if he'd kissed it. The thought scared him a little, though the feeling of her delicate fur and finger was nice there.

"Eighth time is the charm, then. You have more than paid by just taking the little monster off our hands and taking good care of him. Not to mention helping look after the kittens when they're rambunctious," she added more quietly. Both waved at him energetically.

"If you're sure. I just wanted to…you know..." She eyed him critically, and he glanced down as she looked him over, wondering how long she was going to keep her fingertip over his lips. "Are you looking for something?"

"Yes. A healthy layer of skin over your ribs and other bones. I don't see one." She poked him in the chest, releasing his mouth to do so. "Have you been eating enough lately?" Lion-O shrugged one shoulder.

"Not much. We've kind of hit that point in the semester where everything is due all at once and they're trying to get us ready for finals. I ate a Pop Tart this morning." Cheetara made a face and took him by the chin, and he realized she did so to tilt his head toward the light to cast the dark circles under his eyes into sharp relief.

"You know what Pop Tarts are? Processed sugar slapped between fruit and cardboard. You'd better eat well over Thanksgiving. If I don't see you gain two pounds, I'm going to be very displeased. Eat some turkey and get some sleep."

He grinned. "We don't eat turkey. Dad can't make it very well, so we have fish casserole." She made a noise of disbelief. "It's true. He's never been able to figure out how to make turkey, so he just makes this really good casserole every year. We haven't had turkey since Mom died. She was good at stuff like that."

Cheetara seemed to note the odd, reserved way he said that. "Do you remember much about her? You were what, three?"

"I remember she liked to talk. And she always got me to eat food I didn't like by pretending we were different animals." Lion-O rubbed the back of his neck and added, "Like spinach? I didn't want anything to do with until she said we were going to pretend to Apatosaurus dinosaurs eating it. Or cooked carrots, she'd hold my hand and pretend we were rabbits, hopping around beforehand…we must've looked crazy. Or if it was everybody together she'd ask us to do it for her. That always got us." Remembering the short fuzz of red mane and the sensation of being picked up and hanging on to her neck while she spun him around made his heart feel a little heavy, wistful. "She always seemed like she had so much energy. And she told me stories and stuff all the time. But I only remember a couple of things."

"It's nice you remember that about her, even though you were so little. And I think she sounds fun." Cheetara looked at the kittens and said, much more softly, "They won't tell me anything about their parents. And I'm not going to ask unless they say it's okay."

Lion-O nodded. Neither of the kittens looked up, coloring feverishly. Cheetara suddenly turned away from him, picking up the box of graham crackers from the table. "Don't spoil your dinner, guys. Jaga's making spaghetti with meatballs."

"Yum. Is Lion-O staying for dinner?" Kit looked up from her picture to stick out her lower lip hopefully.

"No, I couldn't-"

"You _could_," Cheetara interrupted. Snarf meowed, apparently very interested by the idea of staying. Lion-O wavered. "In fact, you _are_. Doctor's orders. Look at your wrist, it's like a twig." Cheetara took hold of his paw and lifted it a little. "I can see your veins."

Lion-O didn't know what to make of the feeling he got when she stroked the back of his paw to examine the way his veins and knuckles were more prominent. She held it as if holding a bird, light and secure, but she frowned; she tucked her fingers over his and his heart thumped. "Not to mention your paw is cold." Hers were not, claws slim and palms smooth.

"Maybe you should hold both of them. He doesn't seem to mind." Kit's voice was innocent, but Lion-O gave her a look, ignoring Snarf's snicker. And Kit's little teeth were visible behind her lips as she grinned slyly. Kat gently tossed a crayon her direction.

"Girls are so weird. Aren't they, Lion-O?"

"Sometimes." He gently drew his paw out of her grip even though he would have preferred to keep it there. "Really. Thanks, but I should probably go back to the dorm." He couldn't help but feel he owed them far more than he gave, even with helping them out whenever he could.

Cheetara's eyebrows lifted, and her stance – she was only teasing, but he couldn't help but notice – was suddenly tougher, shifting her weight to one hip, keeping his gaze. He tried not to let his eyes linger on her leg and attractive way her hip moved for more than a moment. "Maybe I didn't make myself clear, sir. 'Doctor's orders' means _my _orders. You don't want to make me mad, do you?"

Snarf cackled when Lion-O…well, he didn't want to call it a pout, but it might have looked that way. "You're not a people doctor, though."

"No, but I do run this household. Ask Jaga and the kittens. And what I say in this house goes. And since you are in the house, you fall under that jurisdiction. Meaning you can stay another hour for dinner."

"That's true. Cheetara is the boss." Kat put down his crayon and blew on his picture to blow away the colored wax that had flaked from it. "Better do what she says."

"What if I ran out of the house and escaped?"

"Like you could outrun a cheetah. Particularly one as obstinate as me."

"Somebody sounds a little bossy," Lion-O mused, and Cheetara gave him a honeyed quirk of the mouth as she opened the box of graham crackers and took out one of the single ones.

"Put a cracker in it, Lion-O Rey." She took one of them and surprised him by elbowing him and sticking the cracker between his teeth when he opened his mouth to protest. In a move that he would have labeled flirtatious if he had the guts, she snagged the collar of his sweater and said calmly, "My word is law in this kitchen."

So, rather than attempt to find some loophole in her law, Lion-O stayed for dinner that night.

And wondered if going home for Thanksgiving really was the best choice.

* * *

><p>"He did say four, right?"<p>

Snarf shrugged from within his carrier, absently reading the newspaper on the floor. "Oh you weren't there. Right. Well he said four." Punctuality was something Tygra was generally good about, but it was nearer four thirty than four, and Lion-O – in spite of himself – was getting nervous. Sure, traffic was bad, and Tygra had taken several self-defense courses over his life – and used a couple of the maneuvers on Lion-O whenever they tussled – but Tretierra was a weird place. His imagination was overactive, wondering if perhaps Tygra had run into thugs. Poor thugs. That would hold him up though.

"Whiskers, I'm not sure he knows where the dorm is. Come on Snarf, we'll go down to the entrance to the building, he'll know to look there." Snarf growled when the carrier's front clanked against its latch, and Lion-O picked up his single suitcase. Other than clothes, comb, tooth brush, his cell phone, a couple books to read and some assignments, he was leaving empty-handed. It was strange, but he'd miss the tiny dorm while he was gone. He'd been here more than ten months, and though it wasn't home it was familiar. The smallness of it was safe.

He headed down the hall, spotting Tor and bidding him farewell for the weekend. Tor had a spoonful of yogurt in his mouth, traveling toward the dining commons opposite the exit, so he merely gave a friendly wave as he vanished around the corner. Lion-O carried his case down the stairs, holding Snarf as steady as he could to prevent jarring the creature into an even less peaceable state.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he was relieved to see Tygra enter the dormitory building and halt, looking down either hall and gesturing to him when he saw Lion-O coming. "Sorry, I had to stop somewhere and say hello to a friend of mine. Got caught in traffic."

"It's fine. I just headed down because I realized I never told you where my dorm room was." Lion-O scolded his wild mind that had feared for Tygra. Living in this city would make him into a paranoid mess if he wasn't careful. "So. You all ready?"

"Yeah. Is that the pet?" Tygra lowered his head to squint into the carrier. Lion-O noted he was dressed a little nicer than usual – a button up shirt under a black dress jacket, dark jeans making him look older and accentuating his dark stripes – and wondered at it. Then again, Dad frowned on teenage attire that involved holes and cartoon characters across the front. He wondered if maybe wearing his Legend of Zelda t-shirt had been a bad idea.

Nothing to do for it now. He should have known better anyway, he scolded himself. Snarf peered from between the bars, waved, and returned his attention to his paper. Tygra blinked hard, as if he didn't believe was he was seeing. "Did that thing just wave at me?"

Snarf delicately folded and set down the paper and before Lion-O could stop him, stuck his paw through the bars and undid the latch of his carrier, clambering out and onto the top of it and onto Lion-O's shoulders. Tygra's mouth was shut but his eyes went wide as Snarf reached out with an open paw expectantly. "He wants to shake paws," Lion-O said helpfully, ignoring it when Snarf's tail tickled his ear. Tygra gingerly reached out and shook Snarf's paw as if he were shaking paws with a ghost. Upon that, Snarf trailed back down Lion-O's shoulder and climbed into his carrier, shutting it after him and redoing the latch.

Tygra just stared. "I'm…not sure what to say at this point."

Lion-O shrugged and looked down at Snarf. "Show off." Snarf blew a raspberry at him. "He's not happy in there, so we should probably get on the way. I've convinced him to stay in it for the flight."

"All right. Well, I guess it's nice to meet you…Snarf." Snarf tilted his head and meowed in a friendly fashion. The sound eased Lion-O's suddenly nervous mind; he wanted Snarf to get along with Tygra and Dad, and he seemed to be doing that with Tygra at least.

If he could just win Dad over, it'd be perfect. "Come on, I've got the car parked a block away. Got everything?"

"Yeah, just some clothes and assignments and stuff." Lion-O hefted it under his arm a little more securely and began lugging it toward the door, wheels rolling awkwardly over the carpet of the entry commons. "You drove? Traffic's really bad though."

"I know. I took a roundabout way. Down 85th Street and on 11th Avenue." Lion-O knew the route.

"How'd you know to go that way?" Tygra grinned, and for some reason the motion made Lion-O uneasy.

"I have my sources. The friend I mentioned told me about it. Now come on, before I carry your case for you." Lion-O scowled and moved faster, following his brother.

_And so the chaos begins._

* * *

><p>Home hadn't changed very much since they'd left.<p>

The apartment was clean and organized, the entryway the same pleasant red, white doorframe and trim reminding him of peppermint. Snarf sighed in his carrier as he undid the latch himself and climbed out, sitting atop their three small cases of luggage and stretching his back. Lion-O removed his jacket and hung it on the rack, the scent of his dad's coat pressing against him when he brushed his arm over it. He inhaled. It was spice and cologne and some masculine earthiness.

The plane ride had been peaceful. Snarf had behaved, Lion-O and Tygra hadn't talked much, and Lion-O tried to pretend his stomach wasn't turning itself inside out in apprehensive excitement. Because of his nerves, he wasn't sure if the plane ride and subsequent bus ride home had dragged on forever or been over too quickly. In the dark, the lights of the city gleamed like stars, and the countryside in the far distance was a dark blob as they sank before getting off the plane. Pantherle's streets – trees lining cracked sidewalks, new roads paved well, brick buildings and apartments flashing by before they headed into the city itself and the brick morphed into glass and steel coated in gleaming lights – had changed very little, and the leaves hadn't fallen yet, painting the canvas of the blue night sky with oranges and reds and yellows.

Pantherle was a small place, he realized. Only a third the size of Tretierra. He felt simultaneously as if the buildings were too close and just snug enough.

_It's the same. Some businesses have come and gone, but Pantherle feels the same. _

Tygra put his jacket away and breathed on his paws. "Just as cold here as Tretierra."

There was a soft clinking from the kitchen and Claudus' voice reached them, low and familiar like a song. "Tygra? Lion-O?"

Lion-O's heart jumped and he headed down the hall, fighting to keep himself from running. For, even though he could never quite figure out how to please Claudus, or just what to say to him, he'd missed him.

He'd missed him so much.

The kitchen smelled good, like dish soap and air freshener. The counters were clean and the refrigerator gleamed; Dad had cleaned the place up and put out the nice tablecloth on the dining room table. The paneled wood floor was smooth, and Lion-O suddenly felt shy to stand in a house that wasn't his dorm or the clinic. He lingered, letting Tygra step in front of him.

Claudus turned from the stove and his face – wild, aging, scarlet mane tied to keep it clear of the stove's open flame – broke into a wide smile. "Get your tails over here."

Tygra drifted around the table and headed up to Claudus. "Hey Dad." The lion merely scooped the tiger into a bear hug, eliciting an, "Oof," when he squeezed him around the ribs. Lion-O grinned from the hall when he saw Tygra return the hug, feet off the floor by several inches. "Do you think we'll ever be too big for you to pick us up like this?"

"No. If I ever get to the point where I can't lift you, I'll be spitting false teeth into a cup at night." Tygra laughed, and his face was much more handsome when he smiled. Lion-O felt his face and paws beginning to thaw as Claudus set his brother down, glancing up and meeting his gaze. Dad imperiously gestured to Lion-O, and there was openness to the motion that was different from what he remembered. It was fully welcoming.

Lion-O felt very young as he darted around the table to embrace his dad, jumping to hug him around the neck. Claudus grunted, wrapping those burly arms around him, one paw nestling securely in Lion-O's mane. That earthy, deep scent was stronger by far this close to him, and Lion-O buried his face in the thick mane. "I missed you, Dad. Happy Thanksgiving."

"Happy Thanksgiving. And happy late eighteenth birthday. Did you like the card? I couldn't remember which character was your favorite."

"Yeah." It had been his least favorite character, Starscream, featured on the card. But Dad remembered he liked Transformers, so that had been enough. "Thanks for the money. I actually bought some books I _wanted _to read with part of it." Dad laughed, and Lion-O sighed, every muscle turning to water, not just his diaphragm. It was a relaxing, soothing sound.

"Good grief, you've grown an inch or two." Lion-O's feet touched the floor and he looked up at his dad, shifting a little when Claudus put his paw under his chin and examined his face. "You look tired. Are the classes hard?"

"Just one, but it's a really interesting class. Professor Panthro teaches it, too." Claudus grinned at that, and Lion-O noticed he was wearing a plain button up shirt and slacks; he liked the casual look, but he rarely got to see it. Perhaps Dad didn't care that he was wearing the Zelda shirt after all. "Finals are coming soon."

"Ah, Panthro. I haven't seen him in years. I'm glad you have him as a teacher; he's a good cat, if tough as nails." Claudus paused and suddenly ruffled both of their manes. "It's been almost a year since we stood in the same house. I've missed you both." The warmth was wonderful, bright, and Lion-O – for once – felt just as welcome as Tygra. Maybe leaving had been for the best. Absence made the heart grow fonder, didn't it?

_Why can't it always be this way?_

"Snarf Snarf." The patter of tiny paws on the floor made him look to the entryway. Snarf was standing there, looking around the chair legs and over the walls and the pictures there. Lion-O beckoned to him and Snarf trotted forward, nudging his calf until Lion-O knelt and picked up him.

"What on Earth is that?" Dad sounded bemused, which was better than being immediately disapproving.

"Um…this is Snarf. He's my pet. I adopted him. Don't worry," Lion-O added hastily, "the dorm allows him. And he's really well trained." Snarf tilted his head and reached out one little foreleg. Claudus looked at the outstretched paw, one brow lifting. "He wants to shake paws, Dad." Reaching out – with a finger, as opposed to his whole, huge paw – Claudus seemed fascinated by the fact that Snarf took it and shook it in a fashion most sophisticated.

"Well, isn't that something. How did you train him to do that?"

Lion-O shook his head, Snarf releasing his Dad's paw and squirming until Lion-O let him turn around and climb to his shoulders, curling around the back of his neck like a boa. "I didn't. He's really intelligent. And a bit of a ham," he added as Snarf stuck his chin out and meowed.

"He lets himself in and out of his carrier," Tygra commented, and Snarf set his head atop Lion-O's, fluffy white fur mixing with the red mane. "You really don't know where he came from?"

"Nope. He's got all his shots and everything, but I don't know where he originally comes from." Snarf said nothing, observing some of the pictures on the wall instead. "So…how has everything been here, Dad?"

If he hadn't been watching Claudus like a hawk, he might not have seen a bolt of discomfort across the lined brow. Tygra saw it too, and their eyes met with the merest glance. "Oh, there'll be time to talk about the company and such tomorrow."

Lion-O resisted the urge smack himself in the side of the head to clear out his ears. Did he hear correctly? _Thunder Enterprises _could wait? Catching sight of his and Tygra's disbelief, Dad's lined face broke into a smile. "For today, I'm just glad to have my boys home. You're both probably hungry. There's an hour's difference between the times, but you probably didn't get anything for dinner, did you?"

"No. But…well, it's nine 'o' clock, Dad." Closer to ten, actually. Lion-O felt Claudus scrutinizing him, and knew that he was seeing the dark circles, the bony shoulders. "I'm fine, Dad. It's only been hectic for a few weeks because all the class have stuff due at the same time."

"Regardless, I'm getting some dinner into both of you. Come on, indulge your old man." Tygra nudged Lion-O.

"You do look pretty scrawny. Grocery budget okay?"

"Yeah, it's just the classes. Once Christmas Break hits I'll be fine."

Claudus scanned the kitchen, eyes stopping on Snarf for a second as the creature mimicked him in interest. "I was just trying to figure out something to make. Unless you boys would prefer to eat out."

"I think we should just stay here. It's…good to be home." For Tygra to say something so sentimental was rare, and Lion-O felt that nervous, hard little shell he'd been building in preparation settle aside. "I can make something quick and we can catch up."

"All right. Have you bettered your cooking ability since moving into an apartment with a stove?" Dad asked. Tygra smiled.

"I'm not bad. That might be having an effect on Lion-O, living on microwave food and sandwiches." Lion-O rolled his eyes.

"For the last time, it's just classes." Snarf – at the mention of food – had started tugging at his mane very gently, though insistently. "I know Snarf. Whatever you make, I think he wants some."

Snarf nodded, pulling at Lion-O's mane again as if to demonstrate how hungry he was. Tygra almost seemed to laugh – so friendly it almost hurt – before turning to Dad to figure out what was in the house, and what everyone was in the mood for.

For the evening, it was peaceful and quiet and warm. And even though Lion-O didn't talk much when they ate – where Tygra had learned what herbs went with chicken to make it taste that good, he didn't know – he was content and happy to listen, just feeling like he was as accepted as the perfect brother.

* * *

><p>"Lion-O, I need two cups of flour and one cup of sliced mushrooms." He opened the cupboard and peered inside, taking out the bag of flour.<p>

"Snarf, can you get the measuring cup?" Snarf obediently picked up the measuring cup with his front paws and waddled across the counter as Lion-O set the flour beside the freshly washed mushrooms aside. "Thanks. Want to help rinse the spinach for the casserole?"

"Snarf!" He darted to the kitchen sink and picked up the strainer. Tygra opened a package of greens and poured them into the strainer. With his tail, Snarf switched on the faucet and began rinsing the leaves, pausing to toss it occasionally to make sure they were all getting clean.

"Is there anything he can't do?" Snarf looked smug at Tygra's statement, handing over the greens to him.

Lion-O considered, dumping the second cup of flour into the bowl on the counter before slicing into the mushroom. "Well, he's not much help at chemistry. And he doesn't like Bram Stoker's _Dracula_ because he's not a fan of blood. Other than that, he's well rounded."

"Ah yes, the pre-_Twilight_ vampire genre. Can't say I'm a fan of either." Lion-O knew that, so he didn't respond, focused on cutting the mushrooms without losing a finger. "I'm serious, though. Wait, he reads? Can he write?"

"A little. It's hard to read since he's only got three fingers and his thumb, so he doesn't like to. He washes his paws after he uses the bathroom though, and he brushes his teeth." Snarf beamed, showing off his white little teeth.

"I just wish you knew what he was. I've never seen anything like him." Dad was stirring the tuna with paprika and dried oregano, and Snarf trotted across the counter top to watch the wooden spoon go round and round.

The kitchen was big enough for three people and a Snarf, but the counters were a bit of a mess at the moment. Snarf was very particular in where he set his feet, working around the bowls and cups and boxes, avoiding the dishes with a delicate care. He was more like a tiny person than a pet, and to Lion-O's surprise neither Dad nor Tygra minded him being near the ingredients, clean and neat as he was.

The room smelled good, of herbs and bread and vegetables and tuna. Lion-O tried not to yawn; they'd stayed up very late, and though the casserole and other dishes didn't require near as much time as turkey to cook, it took two hours to bake and about an hour of preparation. They always had Thanksgiving meal at noon, so for everything to finish and cool a bit, they had to get up at eight. Not an unreasonable hour, but when you'd been pulling all nighters for a week and a half, any lost sleep weighed heavily.

He carried the bowl of flour and the cup of sliced mushrooms to Claudus. Dad took the mushrooms and added them to the tuna. "Two cups bread crumbs to the flour, and then a cup of milk with two tablespoons of melted butter." He sighed through his nose. "Somehow your mother always managed to figure out this dish on her own. It was always something to see her running around the kitchen while it took me nearly a minute to open a can…"

"Then again, she knew how to make turkey. And homemade pie. I think we do good to handle homemade everything else," Tygra said. "Well…okay, so it's a stretch to call a lot of this 'homemade,' but still."

Cheetara and Jaga made nearly everything from scratch, he remembered. Lion-O's fingers stilled against the box of bread crumbs and he shifted the golden bits and grains around before measuring out a cup. Right now, they'd be working on their Thanksgiving meal. And he could imagine the kittens, bouncing around in the sitting room because Cheetara would be too afraid to let them wander the kitchen while the stove was on and the oven was burning. And if her predictions proved true she would forget an ingredient in the stuffing, but Lion-O knew that even if she did the others would pretend it was wonderful. Or at least, he would've.

He measured out a second cup. It was still peaceful and calm here, and he had come to the decision that yes, it had been the right thing to do to come home. Snarf trotted back over to watch him as he mixed the rest of the ingredients in.

It was strange, Lion-O thought. There had been no actual arguments, no debates. Perhaps that was because he had shut his mouth for the most part, just glad to be home. But still; Tygra would usually have made some comment by now, and he would have risen to the bait, and they would've stormed away from each other. And yet other than the light question about school or how the city – or in Tygra's case, the unusual urban-suburban mix that was the home to Tygus University, on the very fringe of Tretierra – was, they spoke very little. Hence, they were getting along.

As the hours passed and the ingredients slowly came together to form casserole, stuffing, potatoes, bread rolls and even green beans. None of them really liked green beans, but Mom had. So they made them, every year.

_"Green beans are good for you. They'll make you grow up pretty like me."_

_"Mom, boys aren't supposed to be pretty!" Tygra had protested. Lion-O had puckered his face, and Tygra had uneasily chased one around his plate. Dad didn't move, but the small portion of dreaded vegetables on his plate had not been touched._

_"Well, handsome then. Although all my boys are handsome, aren't they?" She'd run a paw affectionately through Tygra's mane and hoisted Lion-O onto her lap. He had to hop to help her, as her muscles were weak, almost too weak to lift her smaller-than-average cub. "If you get any more handsome, I don't know what I'm going to do. I'll have to chase girls away with sticks; they'll try to steal you!"_

_Lion-O, barely three, hadn't understood it was a joke, and nearly began to bawl. But Mom had smiled and cuddled him close, and he still remembered the smell of her preferred lotion and the way it soothed him. And the thinness in her paws and wrists. _

"_I don't wanna go, Mommy!"_

"_Oh honey, Mommy's teasing. Mommy wouldn't let anyone steal any of you." Dad had smiled a little, and Tygra stuck his tongue out._

_"Girls are weird anyway. 'Cept Mom." She'd laughed. Lion-O stared at the green beans as if they'd offended him._

_"Oh, won't you eat some? They're good for you. Come on, just a few? For Mommy?" His resolve softened, and he'd slowly taken one and put it in his mouth. Chewed it up, shuddering against the mushy texture and bitter, watery taste. But Mom had given him a kiss on the head, so he swallowed. Tygra sighed and followed suit, and she had grinned and taken his paw and tugged him over to plant a kiss on his cheek. "My sweet boys. Now Daddy is going to eat some for Mommy. Aren't you, Daddy?"_

_Claudus looked at her, and seemed to gaze at her face for a long while. Lion-O had always thought his mother was beautiful; sure, her fur and mane were very short ever since she started going to the doctor and finally stopped, even though she always insisted she liked long mane, and the veins in her wrists were dark like jam, but she was always smiling and laughing, even when she woke up feeling sick in the morning. So he hadn't known why Dad had looked so sad._

_"Only for you, Leola. I know where they're coming from." He'd eaten the small portion on his plate, and Lion-O had giggled; his face was granite, reserved. "Where's my kiss?"_

_Mom beamed, and put Lion-O back in his seat in order to stand up and sidle over, giving Dad a kiss on the cheek. Claudus had started to stand up, to prevent her from exerting any energy, but she trotted over to him and nudged him until he sat back down. "Thank you, honey." Her thin arms around his shoulders had been almost too light, and Claudus had held one paw, so delicate in his huge palm._

_That had been three months before she died. _

So they had green beans every year. It reminded them of her.

Sitting at the table, Lion-O thought chiefly of her when they all bowed their heads and said grace. _"I love you, sweetheart. I'll see you again, all right? Be a good boy for Daddy and Tygra."_

What would she have thought, seeing them now? Would she be proud of what they'd done? Or would she be unhappy that they fought so much? Both, probably.

"Snaaaaarf." Everybody turned to look when Snarf took a bite of casserole with his fork. He chewed, tilting his head as if considering if it was suitable to his palate. Swallowing, he tied his napkin around his neck, and started digging into it. "Snar-Snarf!"

Lion-O grinned. "He approves." To his surprise, both Dad and Tygra laughed, and the feeling rippled joyfully through the room.

They each ate their serving of green beans first. Snarf did not know about the tradition, but seeing that it meant something important as the three did it, he paused in eating the casserole on his plate and instead swallowed his portion. He made a face, but didn't fuss. The sight warmed Lion-O.

"So, Lion-O. We heard about Tygra's schooling last night." Indeed they had. He'd told them about his final semester – not to mention discussed a few economic issues with Dad that sounded more like foreign diseases than market trends – and the fact that he was graduating Summa Cum Laude. Which was all dandy. Lion-O nodded at Claudus. "How has your first year been?"

"Good. It was weird at first, but classes haven't been too hard. I mean, they're difficult, but I can handle them. I've got a three-point-eight GPA." Lion-O paused to pass Snarf the salt. "I'm getting gen eds out of the way, and some econ classes for now."

"That's good, son. Any extracurricular activities? Maybe some new friends?" Lion-O wavered.

"Just my job and studying right now. I've made a few friends. One's name is Tor; he's studying to be a physicist. He's really smart, but he's also really relaxed. He helped me out at the beginning of the year."

"That's nice. I was hoping you'd make some friends while you were away. Although I thought you'd mentioned a few other people in your calls." Lion-O thought back to the phone calls he'd spoken to Dad over, and hoped that he didn't talk too much about them. Because in them, he'd mentioned a very specific female – in a platonic way, he hoped – who his brother happened to have met, and would no doubt remember, as she was very beautiful and had a serene quality about her that made her utterly unforgettable.

"Yeah. Y'know, just new people."

Lion-O picked at the fish, noticing that it was tender enough that his fork cut through it easily. Lifting his cup of juice – cranberry juice; Dad got it and grape mixed up all the time, not knowing that Lion-O really didn't like cranberry, though to be fair Lion-O had only mentioned it a couple times and had no desire to appear ungrateful – he drank a little, and Claudus didn't look up while saying, "There was one in particular you keep mentioning…Cheetara?"

Lion-O coughed, slamming his mouth shut to prevent from spraying the table. Swallowing, he hit his chest once. Whiskers, why was it that every time he hoped for something it didn't work out? "Um…just a friend. She lives in Tretierra. Her grandpa, Jaga, says he knows you."

"Jaga Clera? That's a name I haven't heard for a while. I remember him adopting her years and years ago. Very bright girl from what I've heard."

Lion-O was suddenly very interested in the texture of the casserole on his plate. "Yeah. She's really smart."

Tygra was looking at him, and Lion-O felt a bizarre coldness emanating from him. "Cheetara Clera? How do you know her?"

_And so begins the downward spiral._

Lion-O managed to meet his gaze, and nearly flinched; something almost predatory lingered in the too-light way his paws rested on the table. "We're friends. I met her when I first came to the city and she showed me around a little. I adopted Snarf at the clinic and I visit them." Tygra seemed to be weighing his words, and Lion-O added, somewhat confusedly, "She mentioned you. You met her at the library, right?"

A terse little nod was all the response he got. Lion-O took another drink of juice, wondering at the way his fur lifted in response to the iciness crackling off his brother. Claudus either didn't notice the new atmosphere, or didn't wish to mention it. "You talk about her quite often. Are you sure it's not something a bit more than friendship you're after?"

Lion-O went scarlet. "Dad, we're just friends." True enough, but not the whole truth. Not from his side of the relationship, anyway. But he did not want to be fully honest right now. Not when Tygra was looking at him so furiously, as if he was debating about whether or not to lunge across the table at him. But somehow he got the idea that both his dad and Tygra saw right through him. Then again, he was such a poor liar that even a tree could call him out on it.

"Hm. Well, I suppose that might be best. After all, lion blood is a bit of a tricky thing. Remember your poor great uncle? Cats were calling for his head when he tried to marry another kind of cat." Lion-O remembered the story, and felt his brows lower.

"If I did like another kind of cat, that wouldn't matter to _you_, would it? I mean, a cat's a cat." They both raised eyebrows, and Snarf shook his head. "I mean, hypothetically speaking." Claudus didn't answer immediately, watching him as he fiddled with the casserole again.

In fact, Claudus didn't reply for a good while, and Lion-O's unease grew. "Honestly? I can't say I would approve. Not because of anything against any other kind of cat, you understand. It's just that lion blood is such a difficult thing. And you know how the relatives are." He did; the relations were even more traditional than Dad, even more focused on the "noble heritage of lion's blood" than Claudus. It was often lost on them that Leo had been in love with a panther, at least for some time. In fact, as many of them hated Leo as loved him for his involvement in the Lizard Uprising. None of them lived in Thundera, rather living in Sava-Na, the country of origin for all lions. Apparently many of them had returned to their homeland, emigrating back after the war, disgusted with the state of affairs. He'd only met them a couple of times, but their fierce wildness had always struck him. "They didn't even like it when I adopted Tygra. I don't know what they'd think if you tried mating with another breed of cat. And there's the fact that a lion has never procreated with another kind of cat before as far as we know, and there'd be no telling what the cub would be like. It just opens up problems."

Lion-O's gaze lowered, staring at his cup of juice. Tygra had been quietly listening, but now his mouth quirked. "I suppose it wouldn't matter what kind of cat I married, would it Dad? Since I'm a tiger and all."

"There wouldn't be the same social stigma, no. Tigers have made families with many kinds of cats before. There isn't the same emphasis placed on blood 'purity' with them." Lion-O stared at Tygra, who met his eyes with a cool, calculating glance. The words stung, prickling against his heart. "It's an old tradition, and I just don't think it would work out if you courted a non-lioness, Lion-O. For a variety of reasons. Not the least of which being you're the only one who can carry on the Rey name, since it's been daughters being born to the relations. I don't think they would accept it."

The quiet was uneasy. Snarf, perhaps sensing Lion-O's discomfort, meowed. Lion-O took his plate and scooped a little more of the casserole onto it, passing it back. Snarf trilled happily, and Lion-O shook his head. "No, you wait like everybody else."

"Snar-Snarf! Snarf?"

"I don't care if you've never had pumpkin pie, you can wait twenty more minutes." Snarf mewled from his chair, frowning, setting his elbows on the table. "Yes, you can have it with whipped cream." At that he seemed placated, and continued using his fork to eat.

"You…understand him, son? I mean, actual words? Not just general emotions?" Realizing that Tygra and Dad had watched this exchange, Lion-O nodded. He took another bite of the stuffing, which suddenly seemed unappetizing. He wished it was missing an ingredient. "Well. Panthro sent me an e-mail recently. He said you're doing quite well in his class, Lion-O."

"Yeah. We're doing an experiment in his class instead of a final. That's what I was working on yesterday." The conversation had shifted from Cheetara and that soothed his nerves. Tygra seemed to be willing to shift as well; it _was_ Thanksgiving. Perhaps his brother was interested in keeping the peace this time.

"You mean that old hover board blueprint thing you were working on last night while we were talking? That's homework now?" Lion-O dropped his fork.

Perhaps not.

"'Hover board?' What are you talking about?" Claudus looked at Lion-O, who was staring at Tygra, who had the slightest interest in his expression. Lion-O didn't even have to look at Dad to feel the sudden realization flood him. Nor the slightly delayed sigh of reluctant anticipation, of frustration. "You mean the experiments? The…science fiction ones? I thought you'd…grown out of those."

Lion-O's paws were tense, fisting against his knees. He managed to keep his shoulders loose as he glared at Tygra. "…No. I'm still interested in theoretical tech, Dad. That's partly what Professor Panthro's class is about, along with the basics of technology construction."

"There's a difference between theoretical tech and nonsense, Lion-O." Tygra looked superior, resting his chin on his paw as he spoke. Lion-O's hackles rose. "Face it, there hasn't been any good Thundrillium research done, and even if there had been, do you really think we could make hover technology? Honestly?"

With a forced smile, Lion-O replied, "Well, there's no harm in trying. If the people who invented planes had decided against trying, we'd still be riding catallos across the country, wouldn't we(6)?"

Tygra glanced at Dad, giving him a familiar look. Claudus' expression didn't change as he sipped from his cup, as if mulling the words over. "It's eccentric. But it doesn't seem to be affecting his grades, and it's better than any unsavory hobbies."

"I suppose." Tygra did not sound lofty. Lion-O looked down at the casserole again. "Kind of a pity he can't have a more productive one is all."

"I said I'm redoing it for a grade in my tech class," Lion-O said, aware that Snarf was playing with a fork, clinking it musically against his plate. "That's kind of productive. And Professor Panthro thinks there's something to it. Maybe."

"Yes, that sounds _promising_." The sarcasm would have been a beautifully crafted thing if Lion-O hadn't heard it so many times. As it was he just put his fork down and glared at his brother. Tygra gave him a silky smile. "Something wrong, brother of mine?"

Lion-O tried to smirk, but it came out as a grimace. "Oh, nothing. Just thinking about how _perfect_ you are, Tygra. Beyond reproach. Never wrong about anything."

The white face managed a smirk that was confident, beautiful. "Why thank you Lion-O. I do try."

"Boys, please. It's Thanksgiving. Can't we just have dinner without fighting?" Lion-O clamped his lips together.

"I'm finished, Dad. Would it be okay if I got Snarf some dessert?" Claudus nodded, gazing down at the little creature, who looked back at him before looking at Tygra and sticking his tongue out and blowing a raspberry. Lion-O couldn't help but snort with laughter. "Before you ask, no, I didn't train him to do that," he said when Tygra's brows lifted. Standing up, he stepped to the counter, listening as Snarf's little paws padded against the floor as the creature waited at his feet. Lion-O sliced a small piece of pie, added some whipped cream, and carried it back to Snarf's place at the table. Snarf hopped for the chair, but plopped back to the ground, unable to get up enough speed to get back into the seat.

"Snaaarf…"

Lion-O picked Snarf up and settled him back in the chair. "I think _you_ put on two pounds just today, buddy." Snarf purred and nuzzled his paw, sniffing the pie piece. Lion-O returned to his seat, gazing at his nearly empty plate.

"Aren't you going to have any, son?" He shook his head, putting on his best neutral-on-the-side-of-happy.

"No thanks. I'm full. It was really great, Dad." For once, though, Claudus didn't seem to buy it.

"You know, you two are here for the next couple of days. I'd like it if we were all on speaking terms at least." Claudus glanced at Tygra. "Son, I know we don't quite see eye to eye with Lion-O on a couple of things, but as long as he maintains his grades, I don't mind if he has an odd hobby."

"I wouldn't mind if it were just a hobby. But he actually wants to make something out of it." Tygra narrowed his eyes. "Remember the whole deal with the hair dryers and the aluminum pan?"

Lion-O felt his face flush with heat. "I was only eight!"

"You taped them to the bottom of the pan and turned them on, thinking it would be like a flying carpet or something! Most kids are content with cardboard wings, but you take everything to a new level, don't you? You could have burned the apartment down!"

"It was supposed to be a _hover board_, not a flying carpet! And I was just a kid, this is different!"

"How? Oh, right, Thundrillium will _magically_ make it work! Even though you know nothing about it!"

The silverware clattered. His ears were pounding.

"_Oh,_ _shut up! I'm not an idiot just because I don't dismiss something because it doesn't automatically make sense-!_"

"_No, you swallow it like some kid taking down fairy tales! Whiskers, you still read that garbage-!_"

"_It isn't garbage! Fantasy goes back through history, and there's a lot we learn from it! Why do you hate it so much!_"

"_Because you can't seem to distinguish the difference between it and reality!_"

"Boys." Claudus' voice was low, deadly. Snarf was cowering in his seat from under his ears, peeping at each cat. Lion-O and Tygra glanced down the table at Claudus, and Lion-O realized that they were both standing, feet planted, palms pressed flat against the table. A couple of the utensils were still quivering. Had they really just started yelling at each other and actually gotten up? In front of Dad? Their voices had been rising, and the room was suddenly silent but for Claudus' oh-so-soft growl.

Usually they had more tact than that. Tygra's jaw was set, and Lion-O felt his mane standing up as he bit back his snarls. Claudus stood up and crooked a finger at both of them. "Come with me. I need to discuss something with you."

Lion-O and Tygra exchanged glances before scooting their seats away and followed Claudus' retreating back. Snarf abandoned his half-eaten pie and trotted after Lion-O, bumping against his calf. Claudus didn't look back once as they headed through the living room. Snarf meowed uneasily, and for just a second Lion-O had to wonder if they were both going to get spankings.

It had been ten years since he had last gotten a spanking. The deal with the hair dryers had been the cause, actually. Tygra…he wasn't sure if Tygra had ever gotten spanked, golden child that he was. But Dad merely headed to his study and opened the door, beckoning to them again. "Both of you sit down."

The desk within was made of cherry wood and gleamed. The curtains were blue and drawn, casting comfortable shade over the room. Two dark chairs rested in front of the desk and one behind it. It was to this one Claudus stepped, seating himself and fixing his eyes squarely on the two of them. Tygra sat quietly, crossing his leg elegantly over his knee. Lion-O planted himself in the other, letting Snarf hop into his lap and cower, suddenly quick in spite of Snarf's previous meal. Claudus let his fingers rest against his temple. "Boys, I know we've had some…disagreements in the past. I know we don't always all see eye to eye. But I had hoped that this Thanksgiving, when we all came together, we might discover that 'absence made the heart grow fonder,' as it were. That you two in particular might get along better since you've been apart. I can see that this is not the case."

Lion-O stroked Snarf, guilt curling in his chest along with the ashes of his anger. Even Tygra averted his gaze, arms crossing lightly. "There are a few things I want to talk to you about. Lion-O, you've come of age; you're eighteen. If anything were to happen to me, you would assume control of Thunder Enterprises."

Lion-O jerked his chin up. "Dad-"

Claudus held up a paw. Tygra gave Lion-O the slightest glance of fury. "Because of this, I'm finally going to discuss something with the both of you that has had me concerned for a while. It's also one very important reason I want you two to work together in the coming years when I start training Lion-O."

He rested his paws on the desk. "Were the two of you aware that Lizard Co. is under new management?"

Lion-O nodded. Tygra frowned. "Yeah. Some foreign guy. He took over a few years ago, didn't he?"

"Mumm-Ra Ammit, right?" Claudus looked surprised that Lion-O knew the name. Irritation glittered in Tygra's eyes. "Professor Panthro mentioned him."

"Correct. He's redone a great deal of Lizard Co., and turned it into a force to be reckoned with. They're extending their reach into new technology and energy research."

Lion-O wondered if he ought to mention Professor Panthro's musings about the block on Thundrillium research. Glancing at his brother, he scratched between Snarf's ears and didn't say a word. "He isn't like the last executive. He's got ambition, intellect. He's cold blooded, and frankly bizarre. He's no lizard, but I'd be lying if I said I understood exactly what he was. You'd have to see him." Claudus stroked his beard, resting his fingers in the mane in thought. Lion-O recalled that that was what Professor Panthro had said, and wondered at what exactly this strange figure was like. "I've only spoken to him twice, and he made remarks that insinuated he wanted our companies to join."

Tygra snarled, and Lion-O blinked at the impossibility. "Join up with Lizard Co.!"

Claudus gave him a powerful, approving look, as if Tygra's response had been one he had been hoping for. Lion-O tried not to slink down in his chair. "My reaction was similar, although less obvious. Regardless, I'm warning you; he's cunning and he knows people. How they work. He might try to turn you against each other. I don't think he takes refusal well."

Lion-O didn't say anything, but Tygra shook his head. "And why would he try that? Sure, we fight, but this guy can't force us to betray each other, right?"

Claudus suddenly looked sad. "I hope not, but…Tygra, I'm afraid I have bad news." He put his paw down, and Lion-O traced age and weariness in his brow with his eyes. "Grune has left the company. Mumm-Ra offered him a position with Lizard Co. and he accepted."

Lion-O's jaw dropped. He quickly shut his mouth again and watched Tygra out of the corner of his eye, stricken for his brother's sake. Tygra's expression was blank, brows a little lower than usual. "…What?"

Claudus sighed. "He came to me about a month ago and handed in his resignation. When I asked him why, he told me Mumm-Ra had offered him a position that was too good to pass up. I'm afraid we parted on bad terms."

No wonder. For Grune – Dad's best friend, Tygra's idol – to have virtually turned his back on Thunder Enterprises after all these years and have gone to work for Lizard Co., their steepest competitor…Lion-O was very quiet, and Snarf too seemed to realize the gravity of the moment. He remembered vaguely telling Tygra he didn't like Grune, that there was something oily about him.

_I guess…I was right. First time for everything. Oh, Tygra…Dad…_

In spite of the fact that he'd been correct after all, Lion-O felt a miserable sympathy rush through him; nibbling on his lip, he finally said, "So, Mumm-Ra. You think he-?"

"Why? Why would Grune betray us? He's been like a brother to you, and a great friend to me as well!" Tygra's voice was cutting, angry, even just a little hurt. Lion-O's throat closed and he shut his mouth, Snarf glancing up at Claudus.

Claudus didn't want to answer at first, or so it seemed. It took about twenty seconds for him to say at last, "I think Mumm-Ra was offering him a position of second-in-command. Vice President of Lizard Co. Or whatever he's going to call the blasted place now, they're working on a name change. You know how I have had a board of executives instead of an official second-in-command. Well, I suppose he didn't like that."

He wasn't saying something. Lion-O squinted at him, and Tygra seemed to read Claudus' eyes. "There's something else." The merest flicker toward Lion-O of those blue irises made Tygra's fur stand on end. "He…didn't want to work for Lion-O when you started training him, did he?"

"He had a few things to say about future management, yes," Claudus said heavily. Lion-O felt his skin crawl at the way Tygra threw him a filthy, venomous glance.

"Of course. Anything Lion-O gets near screws up. Always."

"SNARF!" Lion-O jumped, almost too stunned to be hurt by the words. Almost. Snarf was hissing, fur on edge, tail lashing as he spat at Tygra. "Sna-Snarf-Snarf! Snarf-Sna-Snarf!"

Lion-O's eyes widened. "Snarf! Calm down!" Giving his owner a furious look, Snarf leveled a serious, blazing look at Tygra, who returned with a cool gaze of his own.

"What on Earth did he say?" Claudus asked, willing to merely give Tygra a disapproving glare before turning to Lion-O.

"I don't really want to repeat it. He…disagrees."

"I'll bet he does. You spoil that thing." Snarf growled, clambering up Lion-O's front and wrapping his forelegs around his owner's neck possessively, as if to tell Tygra to back off. Lion-O held him, more for Tygra's protection than anything; Snarf had looked rather similar before flinging himself into the attack on the frat boy. The slight friendship being built between the two was apparently being strained.

"Boys. Stop it. That isn't what I wanted to talk to you about." Exasperated, Claudus leaned back in his seat. "What I wanted to discuss was the fact that things are going to be changing around here, and I frankly need you both to be willing to work as a team when the time comes. You're like oil and water, and you can't be like that when I step down and Lion-O takes over."

"We're more like fire and gasoline," Lion-O admitted softly. Claudus gave him a weary look and Tygra snorted.

"Be that as it may, it is very possible to stand on opposite sides on some things but come together for a common cause. I just want to be able to trust you both to act with maturity when the time comes. You're _brothers_."

After a moment's consideration, he reached into the left-hand drawer of his desk and took out a small key. With it, he unlocked the drawer beneath that and took out two small black boxes, the kind jewelry was kept in. "I've told you both many stories about Leo and Tygus. It's been a while, though."

Lion-O remembered the last time he'd asked for one. He'd been thirteen, too old for such things as Tygra had so nicely told him. But then, neither of them probably remembered that day.

"_You're such a baby, honestly. What are you going to do, ask for bedtime stories in college?_"

He opened one box and showed it to them. Snarf turned away from Lion-O's front to peer inside it. It was a ring, made of tarnished, smoky metal – gold, but very old – and set with a chipped, uneven stone. "This belonged to Leo. It's been passed down through the generations to the firstborn lion in each family." He removed his paws from the box, allowing them to examine it. "It was a gift from Tygus. During the Lizard Uprising, he and Leo fought against each other many times, but they were always willing to put their own necks on the line for each other because before they were anything – rivals, enemies, or warriors – they were friends. They had been united before the war and they were united in spite of it. Stories about them are common, and after the final battle between them was over and it was clear that Leo's forces had won, Tygus surrendered humbly. And instead of doing as many of the lizards wished and executing him, Leo went onto the battlefield, pulled him to his feet and embraced him like a brother. Think of it; they fought on opposite sides in a war, and yet they still maintained that bond after it all."

Lion-O thought of the elegant picture of the sophisticated gentlecat on the wall, and imagined him sweaty, dirty and tired, pulling a filthy tiger to his exhausted feet and hugging him on an expanse of dry dirt. "This ring was a gift of gratitude for Leo sparing his life in spite of him fighting against the side that won."

Claudus opened the other box. It was a similar ring, made of a similar smoky gold and chipped stone. This one was blue, nearly indigo. "This, on the other hand, was a gift to Tygus from Leo. Another story of the two is that Leo was captured by a group of Tygus' cats and was to be hanged. But Tygus-"

"Got his men drunk so he could set Leo free." Tygra and Claudus both looked at him in surprise. Snarf tilted his head. "He slipped hard liquor into their drink, and when they passed out he cut Leo's bonds. Then he knocked himself out so it would look like Leo escaped on his own." Lion-O gazed at the ring with interest. He'd never seen these heirlooms. "Or at least, that's what Professor Panthro told us."

Claudus seemed to smile with the lines around his eyes. "I should've known Panthro would talk about them. Yes, that's the story. Not many people know that it's true, and those who hated Tygus would rather it not be. But that's what this ring was for. These represent the link between the two, the unshakeable bond they had. Tygra, your dad is the one who gave this to me before he died. As you know, you are a direct descendant of Tygus. These rings are priceless to our families, the Rey and Sieger names."

He looked first at Tygra, then at Lion-O. "I wanted to wait until Lion-O came of age so I could pass these down to both of you at the same time," he said gently. Snarf's eyes bugged out, and Lion-O flinched, noticing that Tygra too seemed a bit shocked.

"Dad, they're-"

"Dad, I can't-"

He held up a paw. Both were still. "Boys. I told you that story for a reason. In spite of everything those two went through, they still found a way to keep their friendship true and to remain loyal to each other, no matter what anyone around them thought or did. I want you to take the rings and every time you two start fighting amongst yourselves, think about that. Think about what they went through, and the fact that their friendship was worth that much to both of them." He looked at Tygra first and held out Tygus' ring, shutting the box before depositing it in Tygra's palm. Tygra gazed at it in silence, closing his fingers over it as if it were a sacramental rite.

Lion-O hesitated to hold out his paw. "Dad, I…it's yours. You're the boss. I don't…"

"Lion-O." Claudus placed the box in his paw, and Lion-O understood he didn't have any option about accepting it. "_You're_ going to be the boss someday. I want this to remind you of that. You have to do your utmost to be ready when the time comes. I've gotten you both small safes to keep them in while you're away."

Snarf sniffed at the box as Lion-O reluctantly drew it close. And with the black lid closed over the ring, he couldn't help but feel as if _he'd_ been locked in a safe to do an important chore he didn't particularly want – or know how – to do.

* * *

><p>The plane ride back to Tretierra was stiff and silent, uncomfortable as a cactus. Even Snarf didn't make a sound, carrier neatly pressed under Lion-O's seat. Other than the rustle of paper – Snarf had a copy of yesterday's newspaper in there, and he was reading through the sports page – no sound came from either cat. Tygra read a glossy <em>Economist<em> magazine. Lion-O thumbed through his worn copy of _A Wrinkle in Time_(7).

The line between them was a stark one. Thanksgiving had been a bit of a bust for them, and on Friday and Saturday it had been all Lion-O and Tygra could do to avoid each other. This was difficult, as both of them wanted to spend time near Dad as they wouldn't see him again for at least a month, if they visited for Christmas.

Even though Lion-O had missed Dad, and seeing him again had been good, the ring hung heavy in his mind. It was locked in his carry-on case, in the small safe Dad had gotten him, but he couldn't help but think about it, the worn gold and the chipped red stone.

To find out that the tale of Tygus saving Leo's life had been true had been strangely exciting. He'd have to tell Professor Panthro, if he didn't already know. Then again, maybe he did but had just left the subject alone. But the ring and the story weren't the only things keeping him from sinking into the fantastic worlds of Uriel, Ixchel and Camazotz.

Tygra hadn't spoken to him in two hours. Not even to ask him what time it was or anything. Lion-O was used to his brother sniping at him; he wasn't used to this frozen, deadly silence. The shifting of the plane and Meg's proclamation that she loved Charles Wallace and took care of him and wanted her baby brother back made him uncomfortable.

Then again, stories about older siblings that loved their younger so fiercely had always been more like fairy tales to him than anything. He remembered a couple of years, being three or four, where he and Tygra had been inseparable, and he'd thought Tygra was the best brother in the world. Probably because when Mom died, neither boy had known quite what to do with that Mom-shaped hole in their lives that Dad – as much as they loved him – couldn't quite fill. And in that desperate, lonely time, Tygra really _was_ perfect, he really _could_ do no wrong. And Tygra had returned that admiration with…well, he would wait for him. Wait patiently so Lion-O could get on the swing set beside him, even though he was almost too small, smaller than a lion cub was really supposed to be at that age. Sometimes he'd even hoist him up when he just couldn't make it. Or before Tygra had grown out of stories, he would sit on his bed and let Lion-O drag in one of his many volumes of children's tales, hauling it onto the bed before clambering into Tygra's lap and struggling through the big words.

Tygra never struggled with the big words. But he never used to make Lion-O feel dumb for it. Sometimes he elected to read it, and Lion-O fell asleep on him.

And then Tygra had changed. Gotten older. Swings were not just for swinging, they were for jumping on and jumping off as far as you could. Stories were a chore, and his eyes would roll when Lion-O dragged a book by. Or, when Claudus was busy and asked him to read to Lion-O, all of a sudden he felt unwanted, Tygra reading the story flatly.

"_Why don't you like stories anymore, Tygra?" He'd lost his front teeth recently and spoke with a lisp._

"_Because they're silly, Lion-O. They're no good to anybody, and I'm too old for them. You will be too, someday." Tygra looked lofty, older, superior._

_Lion-O shyly tried to climb into his lap with a small book in paw. But Tygra groaned and rolled out of the way. "I'm not reading you that stupid book, Lion-O. Read it yourself. And you're too big to sit in my lap now. Even if you _are _super small for a lion cub."_

_He remembered climbing off the bed and drifting out the door, listening as Tygra opened up another book – about al-zebra or something. Did math have animals in it when you got older and super smart? – and pausing just outside the door._

"_But I don't wanna read it by myself," he mumbled. "And I don't wanna be too old for stories. Mommy said I can always read stories." _

He flipped back in the book, back to the beginning to where Mrs. Whatsit first arrived. It had always been an exciting, bemusing part, being informed of a wild destiny. Not that he wanted some similar fate; he wasn't stupid. Grand destinies were great to read about, but how hard would it be to have to live one?

The plane was shifting, sinking easily. He sighed; fifteen minutes and he'd be back in Tretierra. No doubt he'd get his luggage, Tygra would get his, and they'd part ways. He'd walk home or catch a bus and take it to the dorm, unpack, and bundle up in a blanket with Snarf as he worked on his project. It was getting more and more polished, and to his surprise Professor Panthro had e-mailed him several links on his school e-mail account that had sparse, fascinating little tidbits about Thundrillium and its various properties.

'_I think you're on to something, kid. If I ever get ahold of any Thundrillium, you'll be the first person to know.'_

It occurred to him then that Professor Panthro actually liked him. He never called anyone something other than their name if he was completely neutral toward them. Lion-O could have kicked himself for talking about the experiments to Dad and Tygra, but at least Professor Panthro thought the ideas had merit.

It was good to be back. Telling Dad goodbye had been hard, and he'd hugged him extra tight, inhaling Claudus' smell and memorizing the thickness of his fur and the way it felt to have his paw ruffling his mane. But it still felt good when the plane finally landed and they were thanked for flying Almoretta Airlines over the intercom. Snarf sighed happily; the plane's movements made him jittery.

"So, after finals and everything, you're a graduate, right? Looking forward to it?" At this stab at friendly conversation Tygra grunted his assent and Lion-O followed him with his case, shaking his head. It took a few minutes to get free from the people and off the plane, but it was a big relief when Lion-O could recognize some of the buildings surrounding the field and airline building.

It was a grimy, weird city, but he'd missed it.

Lion-O paused, picking up Snarf's carrier and toting it under one arm, pulling his single case behind him. "Don't worry, I'll let you out once we get outside." The lobby was packed and lugging his case behind him without knocking into anyone took all his concentration.

"Snarf-Snarf?"

"No, you can keep the paper, I don't need to read it again."

"Lion-O, don't talk to him in public," Tygra said quietly, carrying his own case just behind his brother. It was the first sentence he'd heard from his brother all morning.

"Plenty of people talk to their pets," Lion-O said, glancing back with a frown. Tygra shut his eyes patiently for a moment.

"They don't tell them they can keep their newspapers to read." Before Lion-O could open his mouth to reply, something rammed into his front and with an "Oof!" he stumbled back, barely keeping his hold on Snarf's carrier.

"Lion-O and Snarf are back! I toldja he said the plane got in at one!" Kat was tugging at his jacket and hollering back at his sister, who dashed up to Lion-O with greater care. The shock of seeing them here – to meet him? Really? – morphed into pleasure when he saw Cheetara coming toward him. The kittens were wearing bright coats and mittens, Kat in jeans and Kit in a skirt to her knees with leggings, and Cheetara looked Christmas-y in a red sweater jacket and jeans. And white, fuzzy earmuffs, which she lowered to her neck as she approached.

"Hi. They begged to come meet you and Snarf. How was Thanksgiving?" Her clean, calm voice made him relax, and he was barely aware as Snarf cackled at Kat, who had made a face at him through the wire front of his carrier.

"Good. Um…"

What he did next took gumption. He wasn't one to think of himself as incredibly brave, but even he knew that it was very courageous what he did next.

He glanced back at Tygra, who had seemed surprised at his brother being mobbed, and said, "You remember my brother, Tygra."

Kat and Kit peered around him, one on either side. "Hi!" Kat darted up to him instantly, stopping in front of him. "Nice to see you again. I didn't get your name. So you're Lion-O's brother?" He glanced back at Kit, but Lion-O noticed that Kit was staring at Tygra in a way that approached shyness. She quickly recovered from her small bout of hesitation and bounded forward.

They'd met?

"Hello. I don't think we were properly introduced the other day. Nice to meet you. I'm Tygra." Lion-O blinked, brows lowering.

'_Other day?'_

"How old are you?" Kat asked, tilting his head back to keep eye contact with the tiger. "Because you're real tall."

"Twenty-one. Yourself?"

"Eight. Nine in four months." Kat tilted his head. "Proper introduction, hug? I'm Kat, and this is my sister Kit. In case you forgot."

Lion-O turned his attention from the twins and Tygra – and their strange familiarity – to Cheetara, who had crossed her arms against a burst of chill air from the front of the lobby. "So…how was Thanksgiving at the Clera household?" he asked.

"Pretty good. Kat and Kit ate too much pecan pie, so they were up on sugar half the night, but it was great other than that." She grinned sheepishly. "Jaga tried to tell them no, but they did their cute faces. You know how I am. So…it was my fault. Oh, and I ruined the stuffing. Forgot butter _and_ celery this time."

Her smile made his mood lighten. In spite of the fact that he knew he was going to sleep in a thin, less-than-glamorous dorm tonight, Lion-O couldn't help but be glad he was back.

Cheetara lifted a paw in greeting, and Lion-O remembered that, yes, he'd mentioned Tygra. He stepped aside, letting her walk towards his brother. The happy bubble in his chest didn't quite burst, but it flattened a little as his brother lifted his gaze from Kat to Cheetara. There was a familiar, handsome way his brother smiled at her.

"Well, well. We meet again," she said. Lion-O watched her carefully; she was standing with her arms crossed gently, more for warmth than anything, and her stance bespoke of friendly interest.

"Yeah. Thanks for warning me about the traffic on Rankin-Bass Street. You didn't mention you knew my brother the other day, though." Lion-O felt something very, very cold slinking down his spine.

"Well, you had to get going to beat traffic. And right between clients is a bad time to catch up." Tygra had not come to Tretierra solely to make sure Lion-O was coming home.

_He came to see Cheetara. _

He had visited – no doubt after Lion-O had on Tuesday, Wednesday evening, hence why she hadn't mentioned it – before coming to Ome N. And as Lion-O kept his face carefully, carefully blank, he saw Tygra glance at him, and a little of that coldness from Thanksgiving glittered there.

"True. I'll call ahead next time to see if you're available." Helpless anger – jealousy –rushed through Lion-O, interrupted as Kit tugged his arm. Cheetara responded to Tygra as Lion-O knelt a little so Kit could whisper in his ear.

"Lion-O?" He nodded, feeling heat collecting in his face and arms, tensing in his muscles. She stared at him before leaning in and whispering, "Why didn't you ever tell us your brother was super cute?"

"It never occurred to me." Kit seemed to notice the edge to his voice, eying Tygra and Cheetara. "You guys have a good Thanksgiving?"

"Uh huh. Cheetara chased us all around the house because we had too much pie and were all crazy. But she and Jaga were cool about it. How was your Thanksgiving?" she asked, and he knew she was trying to divert his attention. It didn't work, but it was sweet of her regardless.

"Fine. We didn't have turkey because Dad can't figure out how to make one to save his life. But we never have turkey, so it wasn't a big deal. Fish casserole is just as good. Oh, and Snarf likes pumpkin pie." Within his carrier, Snarf squealed, knocking against the bars. "Oh, right. One second Snarf." Lion-O headed to his luggage and pulled his pack toward the lobby entrance, pausing to say, "I'm going outside. Snarf's fussing."

Cheetara looked at him, and he instantly altered his face to look politely interested as opposed to nervous. "Let's all get out of here. Too many people." She gently took Kat's paw and Kit took Lion-O's arm, trotting after him as he headed toward the cold doors.

Snarf let out a cry of joy upon his liberation. He hopped onto the sidewalk before clambering up Lion-O's side with impressive dexterity, reaching his shoulder and sitting there like a fat parrot. "Snarf!"

"Yeah. Snow's cold, Snarf. What'd you expect?" Snarf sighed and bundled against Lion-O's neck, seeking warmth for his chilly paws. Lion-O let him stick his paws just under his collar and hide his face there. Kit swayed back and forth on the snow, grinning.

"We woke up Thanksgiving morning and there was snow everywhere! Lion-O, you're going to come with us and Cheetara to the playground and then the park, right?" He nodded, not turning to see what Tygra was doing. "Good. They've got an ice skating rink in the park, but we wanted to go to the playground for a snowball fight."

"I'm not one much for ice skating. I'll watch you guys when you want to do that."

"Hey, hey! Can you come too?" Kat's question was directed at Tygra, pulling on his wrist. Tygra looked a little surprised, and while Kit seemed to like the idea she didn't immediately run over and start meowing as her brother did. Lion-O's stomach lurched, but he pinned in place the politely interested expression. Like always.

"I…suppose. I don't have to leave for a few hours. But only if I'm wanted," he added, and Lion-O knew that this was meant for Cheetara, who settled a paw on Kat's head to make him stop jumping.

His brother had perfected the art of flirtation. He should have written a book on it, all its intricacies and subtleties. Cheetara didn't appear to react to it too much, though she didn't seem opposed to the idea. "Sure. It'll be easier to catch up if you come with us. As long as you're sure it won't make you late for anything."

"It won't. Nothing scheduled until next weekend." Lion-O's head was pounding, and his limbs were a little airy.

"Well, if I can drop off my luggage at the dorm and Tygra can take his to his car, we can head out." His voice wasn't too loud, but he didn't exactly whisper, and he began pulling his case behind himself, Snarf still hanging from his neck like a bizarre accessory. Kit trotted beside him, and he got the feeling she knew something was up but wasn't asking about it.

For that he was grateful.

* * *

><p>"Lion-O! Incoming!"<p>

He ducked, feeling some of the snow splatter in his mane but missing his head. The cold trickled and flaked into his fur and he wiped it back, only to get hit full in the face by another snowball. Kat laughed before being hit in the back of the head by a lump of snow courtesy of his sister. Lion-O shook the snow from his eyes and knelt to make another, but Snarf yowled and held up a snowball he'd made already. There were six others beside his feet in a lopsided pyramid. "No fair! Lion-O's got an ammunitions expert!"

He didn't feel much like throwing snow around at the moment, but he tossed one at Kat, who cart wheeled to avoid it. "I'm a ninja!"

"You're straight out of the circus is what you are," Kit called, scrambling around to get behind Lion-O when Kat threw another at her.

"Come on Lion-O, hit Kit! She's right behind ya!" Lion-O tried to pull his thoughts together and glanced at Kit. She meowed and hugged his side.

"I don't know, I'd feel pretty low dumping snow on her when she's using me for protection, Kat." Kit stuck her tongue out at her brother.

"When did you decide to be a team! And it's a snowball fight, and now you don't wanna throw snow on her?"

"That's because Lion-O's _nice_." She then squealed; Snarf had thrown a snowball at the back of her head, and she scrubbed at the ice. "Snarf! Meanie!" Snarf snickered, darting between her feet and bounding over the snowdrift in front of them.

Lion-O tried to focus on the game, but it was hard. The playground was iced over, slick and freezing, but the bumpy ground had at least five inches of clean snow that had fallen in his absence. The trees were black with damp, branches empty and prickly, but the wind kept blowing flakes of snow down from their perches and into their faces. His dark jacket and red scarf were dusty white, and he brushed them off repeatedly to keep himself from becoming a slushy mess.

But even the snow getting stuck in his lashes didn't block the sight of Cheetara and Tygra chatting quietly from the relative safety of a fair distance from the fight. Another snowball broke against his front, but Lion-O still watched the two. Cheetara had smiled at something Tygra said.

_Don't be a jealous twit. They're just talking._ She nudged him with a paw, and Lion-O's diaphragm seemed to catch.

"Lion-O!" Kat's call of a good sport's warning was just a little late. Ow. Right in the face. The snow burned before it melted, leaving his face a little raw as he blinked the ice from his eyes. "Gee, you're head's in the clouds today."

He involuntarily flinched, skin shivering before he could stop it. Kat didn't notice, forming more snowballs, but Kit did. She looked up at him in alarm, looking into his face. "It didn't hurt, did it? Was there an ice chunk in the snowball?"

"No. No, just cold." Her brows furrowed, and Lion-O shrugged off the words; Kat hadn't meant anything by it. Kit looked from him to Tygra and Cheetara, and Lion-O could have slapped himself for being so obvious.

He couldn't think while Tygra was with Cheetara over there. He wasn't doing anything questionable – his brother was such a natural flirt that it was hard to say whether he was or wasn't at this point, that was the sign of a true expert on the matter – but…

_They stand close. I'm too nervous to stand so close to her._

Cheetara glanced his way and gave him a friendly wave. "Looks like Kat's on a roll. You okay?"

"Fine. Just getting my tail handed to me by an eight-year-old." The smile he'd forced onto his face vanished when Tygra touched her shoulder and leaned in, whispering something conspiratorially.

_I don't have the guts to do that. _She didn't seem to mind, reply making him nod in interest. His eyes were gentle, and the wind rippled through the trees, blowing his fur with a chill breeze, making Cheetara's mane brush over Tygra's arm.

What Lion-O did next was probably quite petty. He knew it was stupid the entire time he did it, but he knelt, picked up one of the snowballs, and took aim.

Little League had been a few years ago, but he remembered how to pitch. Kat hollered at Tygra, but not in time; the snowball hit him in the side of the head, making him jerk in surprise.

_Bull's-eye. Maturity can kiss my-_

Uh oh. Tygra didn't look angry so much as calculating, brushing the snow from his cheek and mane. Lion-O realized he hadn't exactly thought through the consequences of that action. "Kat, you want a teammate?"

"Yeah! Yeah! Tygra's on my team! Kit, you're going down!" Kat bounded over, grabbing Tygra by the forearm and pulling at him. The snow crunched under his brother's feet like a battle drum, light and tapping and ready.

_I'm going to regret that._ Still, he hunkered down with Kit behind the pile of snow she'd been hurriedly forming into a sort of shield. "Okay, Kit? I'm just going to warn you that Tygra is going to be aiming for me, so stay down. Go for Kat. I'll handle my brother." She nodded, tail switching and twitching like she was going to pounce, peering over the top of the shield.

"We're toast, aren't we?"

"Oh yeah. Might as well put out jam and butter."

"It's been an honor serving with you, Commander." In spite of himself, he grinned. "If we go tonight, we go down snowballs blazing!" she added, before scooping up a dollop of snow and pressing it into a ball. She jumped and hurled it, Kat taking it to the front. He pretended to be blown away by it before returning fire with another couple of pre-prepared snow balls. "Hey, where's Snarf?"

Snarf, as it turned out, had run to Cheetara and had plopped down in the snow behind her ankles. "Coward! I'll have your badge, cadet!" Kit called. Lion-O ducked, feeling a snowball whirling over his head, courtesy of Tygra.

The next one hit him in the shoulder, and he looked across the snowy expanse to throw one back. Tygra avoided it with a flicker of his head, taking the opportunity to hit him in the face.

It occurred to him that Tygra had been in Little League as a kid too after about six snowballs to the face in quick succession. "Lion-O, you look like a snowcat," Kat said before being hit on the stomach with another well-aimed projectile from Kit. "Darnit, Kit!"

She cackled. "All's fair in love and war, Kat!"

Tygra grinned at Lion-O. "Truer words were never spoken, eh Lion-O?"

Lion-O blinked, feeling snowflakes sticking to his eyelashes and melting, running down his face. He growled and threw another wad of snow, missing by several feet this time. Again his brother planted a snowball perfectly in his face, on his forehead this time. "Ready to surrender?"

Lion-O had to spit out some snow before trying to make a retort, but because of the delay he never got it out. His brother was shaking his head, snow splattered over his face and tumbling off. Kit hadn't hit him, she was making one to wallop Kat in the behind with. So-?

"No fair, Cheetara! You can't join up in the middle!" Kat crossed his arms.

"You look like you could some help." Cheetara's scent enveloped him, hot and sweet against the cold and wet. She was crouched beside him, ducked down. "Like you said, Kit; all's fair in love and war, right?" She looked like a predator playing a game, eyes fixing on Tygra and Kat.

Lion-O suddenly didn't feel numb with cold anymore, not when she brushed against him to accept the snowball Kit offered her gleefully. _It's just a game, she's just helping because it's fun and we're losing. That's all. Really._

He glanced at his brother, and saw that unreadable expression, something dark glinting in his eyes. Shrugging, Lion-O ducked when he threw another snowball. It smacked into a tree behind him, a little clap of thunder. _That would've hurt if it had hit._

He let the thought go, returning fire. And Tygra's volleys grew gentler, particularly when Cheetara kept pushing Lion-O's head down to keep him from getting hit.

It took nearly twenty minutes to wear the kittens out enough for them to finally agree that the whole thing could be declared a tie. Contrary to Kat's claims, Cheetara could hold her own in a snowball fight, as Kit crowed about.

"If I were a poor sport I might have called that little maneuver cheating," Tygra said smoothly, smile airy when he looked at Cheetara. She calmly shoved some snow against his side.

"It came out a tie. Besides, I was afraid you were going to bust Lion-O's lip or something. That's already happened once." Tygra looked at him in veiled, reluctant curiosity. Lion-O shrugged.

"Toward the beginning of the year. I helped her out with a mugger." Tygra's eyes widened.

"Somebody tried mugging you?" Lion-O heard the same indignant edge in Tygra's voice that he had heard in his own voice when she'd gotten food poisoning. Of course he didn't want Tygra to be neutral about such a thing, but…but…oh, he didn't know what he wanted anymore. She carelessly trotted after the kittens, and Lion-O met Tygra's gaze. "So. What did you do, exactly? Discuss the symbolism in _The Chronicles of Narnia_? Talk to him about the virtues theoretical tech?" His lips nearly purred, and Lion-O smiled innocently. Just smile, pretend not to notice the slights.

"Oh, I stopped him on the sidewalk, Snarf tripped him, and Cheetara kicked the living daylights out of him. We were all in just the right place at the right time. Then she patched me up at the clinic because he hit me. No serious injury to anybody but him."

"Really. Interesting that it was all you could do to stop him. Cheetara's quite an athlete, though; I suppose she came to your rescue more than you came to hers." Tygra smiled right back, but innocence was not something he could catch even the smallest glimpse of in the white fur.

In spite of the fact that the words were mostly true – and he had easily admitted that to Cheetara, embarrassed but honest – Lion-O's eyes narrowed and he stared straight ahead at Cheetara and the kittens as they crossed the street ahead of them, beyond earshot. The pavement clicked with salt and ice, exhaust from the cars settling on his tongue and in his nose. "I can hold my own."

"Unless the enemy is actually a threat." He didn't grace that with a response.

"See? I told you they were setting up an ice rink for December!" Kit waited for them to reach the sidewalk before running between the two of them and grabbing their hands to pull them forward. The grimy street smelled, but the garlands of holly and the wreaths that were beginning to appear on the street lights – after all, Christmas was shopping season, and stores weren't willing to miss out on a moment – made the walkways and darkly-clothed people seem less cold and shivery. The playground was near the Tretierra Park, though they'd never really gone there due to a lack of interest.

So it was interesting to step through the gate to the park, observing the aging brick on either side, and see that the paths had been cleared of ice and snow, trailing for two-point-five miles, if the sign was to be believed. Black trees rimmed it, looking like stubble from this distance, and across the vast landscape of flat snow and muddled hedges, there was a cat-made body of water that had been converted into an ice rink. Save for a few cats and even a couple coyotes – it was likely too cold for lizards, being cold-blooded and all – it was nearly empty.

The thought of getting out on that slick, shining surface made his ankles protest. "I'll watch, I think."

Kit and Kat, as it turned out, were the only ones going out on the ice. However, as Tygra, Lion-O and Cheetara – and even Snarf – assured them they would be watching, both kittens rented a pair of skates each and strapped their feet into them. Once out on the ice, Kit used her tail for balance, poised and still as she adjusted to the footwear.

Kat fell on his front, growling when his claws could not find purchase to push him back onto his knees. "It's harder than it looks."

Cheetara nodded. "I know. Keep trying, you'll get it." Lion-O watched Kit slowly slide by, face ecstatic. "Nice, Kit." Lion-O breathed on his paws before settling them in his pockets. Cheetara had her arms crossed to warm her paws, and as he watched she zipped up the front of her red jacket a little more. "I love Christmastime, but I hate the cold."

"Don't we all." Snarf hopped up onto one of the several metal benches rimming the rink, poking his nose between the rails to watch the kittens wobble and skid around. "It wasn't any warmer down in Pantherle."

Cheetara sat on the end of the same bench as Snarf, looking up at both of them as they shifted in the snow. "So, _did_ you two have a nice Thanksgiving? You both seem a little…how shall I put this…tense?"

"Hm." Tygra folded his arms across his chest, cocking his head toward Lion-O. "Well, it was an interesting one." Thinking back to the way his brother had grown curt when Dad had mentioned Cheetara, not to mention the experiments and Grune, Lion-O was unsure of what he was referring to. Therefore he held his tongue for a minute. "Dad's worried about this Mumm-Ra guy of Lizard Co. He's the new CEO."

"Yeah, Jaga mentioned him once. I get the feeling he's not well-liked." She paused, hearing Kat make a noise of frustration as his claws scrabbled against the rail. He lugged himself back to his feet and began to grudgingly listen as Kit tried to coach him. "He's hosting a holiday gala coming up, actually. The whole city's in a tizzy over it."

Mumm-Ra, the shadowy and disliked figure, throwing a party? Lion-O met Cheetara's skeptical gaze with one of his own. "Would I be correct in assuming you think this is more for publicity than for spreading Christmas cheer?"

"You might be correct in thinking that." She swept her mane over her shoulder so she could lean against the rail without it brushing the metal. "He released a statement saying that he wants to mingle with cats more, as he knows that Lizard Co. is known for its less than successful history, and he wants to 'personally reveal some of the directions the company will be taking in its first steps toward a profitable future.' And guess who he was gracious enough to ask to co-host the event so it could be in Tretierra?"

"Ome North University." Lion-O looked at Tygra in surprise. "I saw a flyer for it heading in to get you. Seriously Lion-O, do you check the message boards?"

_Don't rise to the bait. Leave it alone. _Lion-O returned his attention to Cheetara. "Wow. I didn't think he'd bother with a college, even one as fancy as Ome N. Any particular reason?"

"No one knows. Maybe he'll mention his motivations at the event," Cheetara said. "Not that the big shots at Ome N. are happy about it. They think he's freaky. But nobody's willing to risk alienating him." She glanced back again, wincing. "Kat's not quite getting the hang of this is he?" He was nearly doing the splits, reeling backwards and landing right on his tail. Cheetara half-stood, but other than hissing when Kit skated around him to try to help him up, he seemed fine. "Hm. Somehow I get the feeling that this little venture might be cut short."

Snarf covered his face when Kat dragged himself to the railing and slowly used it to prop himself up again. Tygra followed Kat's path with his head. "I think you're right. Roller skating would be more up his alley."

"Kit's pretty good, though." She streaked by, waving at them as she rounded the edge. They all waved back, and Kat managed to follow his sister more slowly. "Well, maybe he'll get it." Snarf shivered, turning toward Lion-O and rearing up on his hind feet. Lion-O picked him up and shuddered when Snarf squeezed himself into the loosely zipped front of his jacket and buried his paws against Lion-O's neck. "Yeesh, Snarf. Little warning next time."

Cheetara laughed quietly, and Lion-O tried not to look too pleased with himself. Or Snarf, rather. She got to her feet and cupped her paws around her mouth. "Kat, Kit! I'm getting some hot chocolate for everybody from the stand across the way! Be right back!"

"Okay!" Cheetara waved aside Lion-O and Tygra's protests as she passed by.

"Come on, it's freezing. They're only fifty cents a cup, my treat."

"I could walk you over. It's slick along the way." Tygra's offer was courteous, but Lion-O's face reddened in silence. Snarf – to his surprise – patted his chin, as if to calm him.

"Oh, I'll be fine. If you'd both watch the kittens I'd appreciate it. It's not far, but they'll be on this side, and if one gets hurt…"

"We'll keep an eye on them," Lion-O said quietly. He didn't look at his brother to check his reaction, fixing his gaze on Cheetara's retreating back, noticing that the wind made her mane tangle across the back of her jacket as she trudged around the railing at a careful jog.

This left him alone with Tygra. Well, Snarf was there, but he wasn't exactly the best option for peacekeeping. Kit and Kat slid by, Kit slowing herself by angling her feet and causing a bit of the ice to kick up, scratching gently. Lion-O chewed his lower lip and let Snarf rest his chin on his shoulders, the rest of Snarf's body hidden in his zipped black jacket.

"Lion-O! Tygra! Watch this!" Kit started forward, suddenly, and in a move that nearly made Lion-O yelp, she leaped into the air and tucked her arms in, spinning in a shockingly neat motion before landing and swooping around her brother in a loop! "I saw that on the television! How'd I do?"

"Snarf-Snarf!" Snarf clapped and held up his paws, open.

"I think he wants to give you a ten out of ten but he doesn't have enough fingers," Lion-O called, adjusting to the feeling of his knees solidifying again after the scare.

"That's really good Kit. You've never done this before?" Tygra asked as she stopped beside her brother.

"No. Well, we used to mess on the ice on the road last year when we'd get freezing rain that froze over. We never had ice skates, but it's sorta the same once you get used to them." Kit offered her brother a paw and this time he accepted it, wobbling in place.

"I used to play in the snow more. I'm not good on ice," he muttered.

"I think you might be made more for roller skating," Tygra said sympathetically. "Maybe when it gets a little warmer we can get you guys some roller skates. They're easier than ice skates."

Kat perked up, dangling over the side of the rail for a second, legs trembling but face bright. "Really? Cool!" He straightened carefully, and began moving again. "I'm gonna try a little longer." Kit grinned and followed him, moving at his pace.

Tygra watched them, and Lion-O was interested to see a sudden gentleness in his eyes. "They're good kids."

"Yeah. Really clever, too. They like to mess with your head, if you let them. And they're really savvy." Lion-O smiled. "And they're crazy about Jaga and Cheetara. I'm glad they agreed to stay with them."

"Where are they from? Don't they have any relatives?" Tygra had always had a soft spot for orphans and kids who had lost family. Considering the fact that he was adopted, that made sense. Lion-O felt his own heart ease; to see Tygra let down that self-assured wall, even for a second, was something he didn't get a glimpse of very often.

"Don't know. They don't like to talk about it much. They were living on the street for three years until Jaga and Cheetara took them in." Lion-O watched as Kit raced by, showing a now familiar grace as she spun on the ice, her tail providing balance. "They're kind of wild, but they listen."

Other than the chatter of strangers and the soft, crackling Christmas music from the speakers, there were no noises to distract either of them, and Lion-O didn't like it. He lowered his head to examine the ground, then tilted it back to look at the overcast sky. "So…think it'll be a white Christmas this year?"

He had not actually fallen to talking about the weather, had he? Good grief, sometimes it was just better to shut up. He felt Tygra's eyes on him, somewhere between suspicion and weariness. Lion-O refused to look at him, skaters sliding by beyond the rails. In the distance he saw the stands selling hot chocolate and cookies, and it might have been his imagination, but he thought he caught a glimpse of shimmering golden mane. "What do you think you're doing exactly?"

Lion-O looked at his brother. He looked casually perfect, jacket complementing his black stripes and bold coloration. "…Making friendly conversation."

Tygra's paws found his pockets, and he turned his head enough to watch the kittens. "I mean the whole thing. Coming to Tretierra and going to Ome N. You float through life until you hit high school, and then you pull your head out of your comics and storybooks enough to scrape being salutatorian and come to one of the most prestigious, difficult universities in the world. Why?"

Kat was laughing, sliding along on his belly now. The rink was empty enough that nobody would fall on him. Kit got down on her front and pushed off the wall with her legs, squealing as the smooth ice chilled her. "I just want to do a good job when Dad starts training me to follow in his footsteps. I want to be able to do things right." He couldn't talk about the rest of it; not to Tygra, and not to anybody else. "And just so you know, I'm sorry about…Grune. I really am."

"Doesn't change anything. We both know why he left, and I'm not so sure I blame him, considering how little _you_ seem to have changed. I'd rather not discuss it." The frost in Tygra's voice made his ears lower and his brow set.

Lion-O stared at him. Gently, gently. "Tygra…he quit on Dad. If it really were just because he thought I'd suck, he would've waited until-"

"I don't want to talk about it. You never liked him because he was honest about you, even when Dad wasn't. He's not…not a traitor."

The double negative had been unintended. But it suited his words well. Lion-O bit his tongue, scanning the distance again for that flicker of yellow. Tygra caught him looking, following his gaze.

"What's your deal with Cheetara?" Instead of being frosty, Tygra's voice had lowered to an almost smoky growl. Lion-O heard the spiteful sparks hiding, waiting. Perhaps they were why his face heated against the sting of the icy wind.

"We're friends. I told you, I met her when I first came to Tretierra."

"Dad seemed to think you don't just want to be friends." Accusatory, Tygra's tone made his hackles rise under his scarf and Lion-O's jaw set. "You're always watching her. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you had a crush on her."

Why was it Tygra could turn his every thought into a weapon whereas Lion-O couldn't hide a thought or use them for anything other than getting himself in trouble? He blushed more under his fur, and he felt Tygra's gaze on him. "I don't think it's any of your business if I like her that way or not, Tygra," he said, glaring at his brother as carefully and gently as possible. Tygra's expression was guarded, stony.

"She's two years older than you, with a career and training. She's got a sense of responsibility. Not exactly your type." Lion-O felt himself getting hot all over, and he bit his tongue. "You'd be better off with someone more like you. A bit on the dreamy side," he continued coolly. Cruelty was not his brother's intent, he didn't think; Lion-O didn't believe he was trying to be hateful. So he fought his temper when he replied.

"I showed her my tech ideas. She didn't think I was nuts. Maybe she's a little 'dreamy' about some stuff too."

Tygra rolled his eyes and shut them in exasperation. It was a practiced, fluid move. "You didn't."

The kittens' laughter was sweet, high-pitched. Lion-O wished he could just listen to it and ignore his brother utterly. The moment of softness was gone, and the spiny, perfect jibes were hitting all the right places. "She said it was kind of sad people just immediately wrote them off as stupid."

"Lion-O, do you know what the word 'patronize' means? Cheetara can be a mothering person, so I'm sure she wouldn't have wanted to hurt your feelings."

_Patronize –to treat somebody as if they're less intelligent than yourself. Talk down to. _

His throat nearly shut and his eyes suddenly stung. Something in his chest recoiled and felt resentful, hot like wax. _Just ignore him. Cheetara is honest. If she thought they were stupid, she would have found a kind way to tell me. She doesn't treat me like I'm an idiot. Not like he does._

"I have higher opinion of her than that. She has the courage to be honest with people," Lion-O said slowly, voice low as he fought to keep it from shaking. He'd plunged his numb fingers into his pockets to protect them from the cold, and from Tygra's suddenly ruthless eyes.

"Yes, do that. Take the precious, pure, holier-than-thou route. Twist my words into something I didn't say." His brother could sound so friendly. Why was his voice so cold when Lion-O was with him?

"I'm not trying to be 'holier-than-thou' or anything. You think she'd lie to spare my feelings. I think she would honest, regardless of what it meant. I didn't imply you had a_ low _opinion of her, just that you thought she'd do the nice thing instead of the honest one. How am I twisting your words?" His brother's face reddened, and Lion-O watched his lips thin in fury. But it gave him an angrily satisfied weight in his chest to note that his brother couldn't form a response.

"This always happens. You throw a lot of pretty words and nice ideas like life is a story and expect everything to be all sunshine and roses. This is one of the reasons you're not suited to take over the company. The CEOs will eat you alive, and pretty words won't fix problems with them." There was venom in his brother's words, a poisonous resentment. Lion-O felt the air chill around him, and it wasn't from the overcast cold.

"Why are you so angry? What did I do to make you so mad?" There was an edge to his voice, and the questions seemed to rise in the air and expand, encompassing them entirely. Usually this was where the discussion ended, with Tygra shaking his head and turning away. But Lion-O saw his jaw twitch and wondered if, for once, Tygra was going to answer him.

"This hot chocolate is boiling, so be careful." Cheetara's voice drawing near them broke the moment of heated anger, and Lion-O and Tygra both looked at her, instantly veiling their emotions. Even so, she glanced between the two of them, carrying the cardboard holder with deliberate care. "Something wrong?"

"No." They spoke at exactly the same time, and the silence that followed was awkward, uncomfortable. Lion-O was glad when Snarf began pawing at his calf, complaining about sitting in the snow. He picked Snarf up and brushed the ice from the little feet, letting Snarf bury his face in the scarf.

"Cheetara! Cheetara! Look what I can do!" Kit had gotten up from her belly and skated over, spinning elegantly just before stopping against the rail. She shivered, putting her gloved paws against the metal.

"That's really good, Kit! Kat, you're…innovative." Cheetara's voice was kind, but Kat merely muttered under his breath, edging himself forward on his stomach, having lost his momentum halfway through. He used the rail to climb to his feet, clinging to it.

"Can someone help me get these off? I'm tired, and my tail's going numb." Tygra reached over the railing and hoisted Kat over to the other side. He then carried him to the nearest bench and set him down. Snarf hopped onto the bench as Lion-O did the same for Kit, who looked somewhat jealous that Tygra had picked up Kat rather than her. "Ooh, hot chocolate!"

"Extremely hot. Let it cool a little. We need to get your skates off." Cheetara opened the tops of the cups, a cloud of steam bursting in silence from the gaps as she knelt, observing the tangled knots in Kat's laces. "This might take a minute, kiddo."

Lion-O set Kit down, but she tugged on his sleeve and he lowered his head to hear her. "Lion-O, will you help me get these things off? I don't want Kat to know, but I think they're real uncomfortable too," Kit mumbled, planting her tail on another bench, her leggings rumpled from the tightness of the laces. He crouched in front of her and began pulling at the tight, intricate knots. "I didn't want them to come off, but I'm not so good at tying normal knots without them coming loose."

"Sure. Hold still, this one just needs a few tugs." Lion-O heard Kat's voice from the bench, and Tygra replying, and looked up.

His heart nearly stopped, tripping like a rabbit that had just realized it was running over a bear trap.

Cheetara was looking at Tygra, chatting quietly as she fiddled with one skate and Tygra worked the other one free, closer than they had been before. Against the snow and the sun starting to paint the snow a blinding white, she looked like she shone, mane silk against the light. His brother's fur looked bold and the white along his face gleamed, a friendly grin along his mouth perfectly balanced between casual and warm.

They looked good beside each other like that. A muscle in his neck twitched.

_Just thinking about how perfect you are, Tygra._

How well he had spoken. Cheetara smiled at something he said, shrugging a shoulder and continuing to work one skate loose. Her mane spilled carelessly along the red jacket, a beautiful light against the scarlet.

Lion-O felt the knot from one skate finally come loose and he moved to the next one as Kit freed her ankle and smoothed her legging. He wasn't prepared for the sudden, swollen hurt that wedged into his throat and made his chest suddenly feel like it had to pump lead instead of blood.

If Tygra liked Cheetara, Cheetara would like him back.

That was simply how things went.

Lion-O knew better than to think otherwise. Was there any indication it would be different this time around? Why should it?

Tygra was…better.

"Um, Lion-O? The knot's loose."

"Huh? Oh, sorry." Lion-O tugged off one skate and then the other. Kit wiggled her toes, bringing her knees to her chest and holding her feet with her paws.

"Owie. Man, it's cold out!" Kit paused and glanced over at Tygra and Cheetara. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Can you feel your feet?" Lion-O's paws were comparatively warmer than hers, and when she shook her head he curled his fingers around one tiny foot.

"Something's wrong. You looked all pale and weird. What's up?" Kit looked at Cheetara and Tygra again, Kat's feet finally free from the skates. Kit's brows furrowed. Her voice lowered and she whispered, "Are you jealous 'cause Tygra's talking to Cheetara?"

"No." The talking didn't bother him. The body language – that easy, attractive attention Tygra exuded – did. Lion-O switched his paws to Kit's other foot and she drew the somewhat thawed foot toward herself.

Kit watched thoughtfully, her little paw suddenly coming to rest on Lion-O's wrist. "Just because she's talking to him doesn't mean she likes him like that, y'know," she whispered, so quietly that Lion-O nearly didn't hear. He froze, though, the tiny words trickling in. "I know you like her a whole lot. Tygra seems to, too. But just between you and me, I hope she picks you."

There was a serenely innocent greenness to her eyes, almost hazel around her pupils. Lion-O tried to make his voice work, but all he could manage was a grunt. "I really like Tygra. He's really cool, and he's super cute." The bald way she said that nearly made him choke. "But…I dunno. I feel a little bit more like…_home _around you. Maybe because I know you better." With that she tugged her feet in and sighed. "I wanna go to the clinic, drink hot chocolate, eat some peanut butter crackers, and take a nap."

Lion-O didn't say anything in response; there wasn't much he could say in light of the strange statements. He did, however, sit down beside Kit on the bench and say, "I'll carry you. Your feet just warmed up, and they're going to be kind of sore. Tygra's carrying Kat," he added, observing as his brother lifted Kat onto his back and stood up.

"Wow, I'm tall!" Kit rolled her eyes at Kat's cry and climbed onto Lion-O's back, and her trusting little grip was strangely pleasant.

"I can take the bus near the clinic to get back to the parking garage. It's no trouble," Tygra said. Lion-O sighed; his brother was not a cruel person. Usually. To others.

_So why does he act this way around me? Other than the fact that he thinks I'm an idiot getting what I don't deserve._

_Does he actually like her? He wouldn't flirt with her just to hurt me. That would be too low. So…_

Lion-O's heart sank. If Tygra felt about her the way _he _did, it was another competition. Like always. Always. Why did it turn into that? He was guilty of letting it happen too, but he just got so sick of being shunted aside in favor of Tygra. By everyone. The exceptions were the kids, Snarf, Cheetara and Jaga. At least for people who could pick between them. But the kittens were fascinated by Tygra, and while Snarf was great…

He couldn't help but think about Cheetara. Her little habits, what little she'd told him about herself. Those precious, glinting thoughts of her that he locked inside and held like crystal.

Was he just doomed to be the kook that girls nodded and said, "Oh yeah, him. Nice guy,"? Just once, couldn't someone – this specific someone, this woman he had fallen so hard for – decide, "Hey, I love you back,"? Because there was something about _him_ that she liked, and wouldn't be able to find with anyone else? It wasn't that he wanted anybody to hate Tygra. Was it wrong, though, to hope that somebody…that _Cheetara…_would like Lion-O just a little bit more?

_Please…_

He was quiet as they walked, so absently paying attention to his surroundings that he didn't notice when Kit – apparently bored – started braiding his mane. "Lion-O, you look good in braids."

When she said that and he felt his head, he responded, "Kit, boys don't wear their hair in braids."

"Sure they do! I've seen some guys from really far south braid their manes. And that cute elf-cat from _Lord of the Rings_. It's…oh, what's the word…exotic?"

"I don't think I could pull it off." Kit shrugged, continuing to braid.

"Well, you're a lion. That's kinda exotic for around here, isn't it?" He finally convinced her to stop and straighten his mane out, attracting looks from passerby as she fiddled with it, or perhaps it was simply the fact that he was carrying an eight-year-old girl on his back.

People stared. He'd gotten used to it.

Cheetara glanced back at him, eyes warm with amusement. It hadn't really occurred to him that she was walking beside Tygra until that very moment, but it finally hit him. As did Kat's tail as he walked a little too close to his brother. "Oops. Sorry Lion-O."

"It's okay. My fault." Cheetara glanced back at him again, perhaps noting his tone. He pretended to be interested in the nearest building window, which happened to hold a dancing Santa Claus. Kit eyed it uncomfortably.

"Please tell me I'm not the only one nervous about some fat Tuska guy coming down a chimney to eat people's cookies and leave presents(8). If anybody else did that he'd be arrested." Lion-O looked at her and she grinned, but he couldn't bring himself to laugh, even when the three in front of him did. Kit frowned and flopped over his back, arms dangling off his shoulders. "I tried," she whispered very quietly.

"Well now that we actually live with Jaga and Cheetara, he should be able to find us. Oh man, we don't have a chimney – how will he get in?" Kat looked at Cheetara, a little upset, tail flicking back and forth.

"He'll probably come in the front door. He has a key for such occasions, I'm sure," she replied gently. Kat relaxed.

"That's a good idea. I wonder why more people don't just do that."

"Yeah, that's only even encouraging the break-in even more." Kit huddled against Lion-O when the dancing doll seemed to look at them, cheeks painted red and in a rather frightening grin, tusks plastic and reaching past his chin.

"Jaga! Hi! This is Tygra! But you knew that!" Kat's yell echoed off the sides of the buildings, attracting the glances of an elderly couple wandering past the clinic. It was snowy and quiet beneath the layer of ice, and the stairs had been cleared of frost. It was on these Jaga stood, observing them serenely as they headed toward him, dressed in a yellow sweater vest over a white shirt with khaki slacks. Tygra let Kat down onto the marginally warmer steps and Lion-O followed suit, setting Kit down carefully. "He's Lion-O's brother, and he's twenty-one, and he's really good at snowball fights."

"Yes. Hello, Tygra. I'm sorry I couldn't see you the other day. Somebody brought in a swine rat that was giving birth and I was needed." The friendly way Jaga spoke nearly made Lion-O miss the fact that he'd been helping a rodent give birth. "Classes going well at Tygus University?"

Tygra nodded, offering him a paw. Jaga shook it as Tygra said, "Almost ready to graduate, actually. Business major, minor in economics."

"Impressive. Going into Claudus' business, I gather?"

"No other. Lion-O will need someone around to make sure he keeps his act together, considering business isn't his forte," Tygra said lightly, somewhere between teasing and deathly serious. Lion-O's blood rushed to his head, and he hid his fists in his pockets. Jaga's eyes rested on him for a moment.

"It's good to have a variety of talent heading a business. Some are gifted in finance and calculation. Others are gifted with ingenuity and sight." Cheetara expression was a little lost, but Lion-O felt his heart lift a little; Jaga had said that for his benefit, not Tygra's. How did the old cat do it? "I'm sure you'll both do wonderfully when the time comes. But that's a ways off, isn't it?"

"Yeah. But Tygra's been training with Dad over the summer and any breaks he gets. So he probably knows the works like the back of his paw by now." Lion-O smiled mechanically; he didn't want to stoop to making little, burning remarks. He wasn't any good at it anyway. That was Tygra's shtick.

"Are you staying a little longer?" Jaga asked, only for Tygra to shake his head.

"I'm leaving on the next bus."

"Jaga, can I have some crackers? I want to dunk them in my hot chocolate when it cools off." Kit was nosing at her cup, watching the steam when Cheetara took one of them out of the holder and passed it to her. Kat accepted his as well, and Jaga swept the kittens inside.

"I'll be in after a minute." He glanced at Lion-O. "Hello. Did the three of you have a good Thanksgiving?"

"Snarf!" Replying peaceably, Snarf reminded them that he too had been present at the Rey household. Cheetara took out another cup of hot chocolate and handed it to Tygra.

"Careful, they're still too hot to drink." She handed another to Lion-O. "Snarf, don't even think about it." He scowled at her, and she took the last one out, tucking the cardboard under her elbow, staring almost forlornly into the cup. "And now we wait, I suppose." Jaga smiled from under his mustache.

"A little clean snow in the cup would cure the problem." She made a face.

"Jaga, there are supposed to be chemicals in the precipitation of the city." He rolled his eyes.

"You know, my generation went through everything from lead paint to drinking out of hoses. Most of us have turned out relatively sane. I suppose we didn't have quite the same issues to deal with, but if you're so picky I'd take the cap off for a few minutes so it would cool." She did so with a shake of the head.

"Are you really going all, 'Back in my day,' Jaga?"

He looked offended. "No. I've made no speeches about the schoolhouse being five miles away and trudging through three feet of snow with a lunch bucket to get there before working with Papaw to cut down trees and hoe turnips in the summer under a blazing sun. It's not a legitimate 'back in my day' speech if I don't start into any of that." She choked back a laugh, and Lion-O covered his mouth with a paw. Even Tygra – looking a little confused by Jaga's previous statement – had a calm expression that looked very forced.

Snarf just cackled, sniffing at the cup of hot chocolate. "Snarf, I'll let you drink a little in a minute. I love you, but I don't know that I can drink after you. I mean…you do lick yourself."

"Snarf-Snarf!"

"I know you don't, but you lick your body in general with those exceptions. I don't want much. Besides, you're perfectly warm in there. You're not even walking in the snow." Snarf crossed his forelegs and hid his head under Lion-O's scarf.

Jaga turned to the doorway. "The kittens are hungry. Tygra, it was nice to see you. Next time you're in town we'll have to have you over for more than five minutes and twenty-two seconds." The tone was kindly, and Tygra nodded at him. Jaga kept his gaze on him before letting his eyes flicker to Lion-O and then heading inside.

_That old man knows everything._ Lion-O chose not to voice this comment, instead sipping at the hot chocolate very, very carefully. It was scalding, so he opened the top and blew on it, watching the steam rise warily.

"Well, I hate to leave on such short notice, but I need to get back to the university and unpack," Tygra said. He looked at his brother, and Lion-O gazed right back, face utterly blank. "See you later, little brother. Study for your finals."

Lion-O nodded. "Drive safe. Good luck on your finals." He meant it, but glanced down at the cup in his paws. He reached deep down for the maturity to wait while his brother turned to Cheetara to tell her goodbye.

"It was nice to see you again. And thanks for the hot chocolate. I'll have to return the favor sometime." Lion-O still didn't look up at them, as if his hot chocolate were sending him a message he had to stare at very hard to read.

"What is it with you Reys and paying back for the smallest thing?" she wondered aloud. "Just consider an apology for beating you at that snowball fight and 'cheating' if you must."

"Oh, you beat us? As I recall it was a draw," Tygra said, cocking his head to the side.

"Ah, the war was a draw, but _I _beat _you,_" she said, poking him in the chest at each word. Lion-O blinked each time she did. "I hit you twelve times, and you only hit me seven." The corner of Tygra's mouth quirked.

"If you insist."

_He'd never do that with me. Never accept coming worse off in anything if it were me. _

The familiar, squeaking sound of a bus and the way the street shifted under the huge mass made them all look up. A cloud of exhaust settled on Lion-O as it halted and he coughed, Snarf hacking away before hiding his nose in the scarf. "I get off at the third stop, the one closest to Ome N. You coming, Lion-O?"

Lion-O shook his head. "I'll catch the next one." He had no desire to be confined on the same bus as his brother. It would have been prudent to think up an excuse – perhaps one about wanting to go to one of the shops this side of town or something – but he just couldn't come up with one on the spot. And Tygra noticed it, if the sudden coolness to his eyes was any indicator.

"Suit yourself." Cheetara gave him a friendly pat on the back as he went, and the motion was not lost on either brother. Lion-O watched his brother glance back and give Cheetara a strange look, one rather more affectionate than he was accustomed to seeing.

_They look really good together._ The thought slipped by and kicked him in the gut before Lion-O could stop it.

And then Tygra was gone, up the steps and out of sight as the bus began moving. This time the exhaust didn't make him wheeze, and Lion-O just watched the bus round the corner.

And so went Tygra. But Lion-O still felt the weight of his presence, his confidence, as Cheetara tilted her head. "Okay, what's up? You two were like burning oil and ice water."

In spite of himself he smiled vaguely. "Fire and gasoline is the comparison I prefer. We combusted over Thanksgiving dinner and started screaming at each other."

She didn't say anything for a second, perhaps too surprised. "What about?" she asked finally.

"The usual. I think he's a stuck up show off, he thinks I'm a moronic goof off. I'd like to blame him for everything, but that wouldn't be fair." He shrugged. "But you were right in that it was good to see Dad. He told us some interesting stuff about the company and Lizard Co."

He didn't want to talk about the ring right now. Its weight, previously forgotten during his episodes of jealous fear, had returned and was pulling at him. Even locked in the safe, in his luggage, locked in the dorm where he'd dropped it off and hidden it under his bed. The feeling of the sidewalk beneath his feet wasn't enough to distract him as he finally asked, "So…what were you and Tygra talking about? You know, before I hit him with a snowball?"

_Be ready for anything. Anything she might say._

"School. I asked him about his classes and he told me about them. Apparently Tygus University has a nice extracurricular system; he asked if I was interested in going to the semester end festival they put on at Tygus University every Christmas. It's this coming weekend, Sunday night."

A date. Sheathed in the, "Going as friends" concept no doubt, but a date all the same.

Before he could stop it, Lion-O felt his heart do a strange little motion that was something like jumping off a precipice and falling, and feeling its spine – if a heart could have a theoretical spine – break on impact. The numbness of his own voice was welcome, coating the pain of splintering into a few million pieces.

"I see. It's supposed to be fun."

_Don't sound disappointed. You prepared for this, remember? For all of five seconds._

Cheetara stood beside him, nursing her cup of cocoa thoughtfully between her fingers. "The thing is, that event hosted by Mumm-Ra Ammit is going on the same night, and I wanted to go to that. So I had to say thank you, but no."

Confusion. Not quite relief, just confusion. "Oh. Really?"

"It's open to the general public, and I want to get a look at the guy. His influence is getting huge lately. It seems like the best chance anyone will get." She paused a moment. "I actually was wondering if maybe you wanted to go with me, since it's almost the end of the semester-are you okay!"

Lion-O had been taking a drink of cocoa, trying to look as if he wasn't somewhere between confounded and relieved. Instead of sipping it, when he heard 'go with me,' he had accidentally swallowed half of the steaming beverage, coughing and sputtering against sore throat and rebelling taste buds. He put a paw to his mouth and swallowed, hacking out the words, "You want to what!" His breath misted in front of him, tongue nearly blistering. At least he hadn't spat it out, right? Snarf protested, dangling from his scarf and shoulder as his owner panted.

Cheetara stared at him, and he met her gaze more from raw shock than from courage. "If you don't want to, I understand-"

"NO!" He coughed, mouth hurting and the whites of his eyes stinging in the cold breeze. Whiskers, had his voice just cracked? Had he just squeaked at her? "I just…I…I was surprised." She was silent, watching as he looked down into the cup of hot chocolate, numb fingers prickling against the warmth. The snow under his feet was wet, and he lifted his gaze from his feet to meet her eyes again, this time his heart pounding uncomfortably hard. He could feel it in his throat. "I mean…you want to go somewhere with me? Instead of Tygra?"

Why did he have to add the last sentence as if he were asking if she were quite sane? She didn't answer immediately, turning fully from the steps leading to the clinic to face him properly. "Why does that surprise you?"

Lion-O felt his throat bob, brain hunting for the words to explain his bizarre behavior. Unfortunately, it was his heart that spoke before he could quite stop it. "Nobody ever picks me over him."

Her brows furrowed, and he nearly yelled at himself for saying something so _stupid_. As if he didn't look pathetic enough as it was. His mouth wasn't hot anymore, just painful, and her eyes were inscrutable as he felt Snarf try to stick his tongue into the hot chocolate. "What do you mean? Aren't you the one inheriting Thunder Enterprises when your dad steps down?"

Snarf succeeded in getting his mouth onto the rim of the cup. Lion-O blew on it, shifting the cup closer so Snarf could lap at the remainder, finding his own mouth puckering at the thought of drinking anymore. "Only because I'm biologically a Rey. Legally, it's always been blood kin who inherit it. If Dad had a choice-"

_Stop. She doesn't need to get this baggage. _Lion-O watched Snarf's little pink tongue dart into the beverage happily, unable to lift his head from the sight. But he couldn't stop the words that were coming from south of his voice box like so many insects finally brought to light by nudging and prodding.

'_From the heart the mouth overflows.' Stop overflowing, mouth._ "Well. Nobody thinks I ought to be the one. And I can honestly say that nobody has ever really spent time of their own choice around me until…"

_Stop. Stop it now. You'll be in pathetic, cuckoo territory. And you'd deserve it, too. One thing you _do _deserve._

Why did his mental narrative suddenly sound like Tygra?

Snarf glanced up at him, mewling happily, kneading against his paw and sticking his nose into the cup again. "Until I came here."

It took all the guts he had, but he managed to meet Cheetara's eyes. "That's one reason I was so worried when I first came here," he admitted, watching her for any sign of exasperation. "I didn't want you guys to get sick of me and put up with me because you thought you had to."

She stepped closer in the snow, and her nose looked a little pink from the cold under her fur. It was cute. "Why did you think that? Did you think we'd just lie to you?" She sounded offended, and there was carefully contained anger glittering in her eyes. But he was surprised to see that it softened and her eyes went a little wide. Perhaps the panic – that hurt that was still teetering in his heart – showed on his face.

"I didn't want to. I believe you're honest with me." Snarf's tail thumped against his front.

"But you got some bizarre idea that when I was talking to Tygra that I was basically going to pitch you aside in favor of him? Or…_something_ along those lines?" The anger was gone, a steady disbelief replacing it.

"I hoped you wouldn't. You don't seem like you could ever do something like that. But everybody else always has." Why did he keep saying that out loud? Why did he keep opening up that can of worms that he always kept shelved and hidden from everybody in the world? It had been tolerable as long as it was locked down, deep down. Why did it feel simultaneously like he was pushing in and digging out a splinter from his insides? "I mean, I understand why they would. He's a talented guy, and he's smart. I…I just…"

Cheetara looked ready to hit something again and Lion-O managed not to cringe when she stepped forward, free paw on her hip. "I find it interesting that when you're in front of your brother you put on a mask, but once he's away you act like you're worthless compared to him."

Lion-O didn't know it, but when his pupils met hers, his eyes looked suddenly old and wide, like some kind of wild animal watching from the protection of bars. It was a curious, unguarded look. Somewhere between expectant and hurt. "I act like an idiot around him because I'm pretending I stand a chance." His voice wasn't quite level – angry, but not at her, and tinged with the sound of defeat – and he couldn't force it to be. Her eyes positively hurt him, boring into his. "Nobody has ever picked me for anything. It's always him. And whatever I have to be selected for, I'm told I don't deserve it or I'm going to ruin it. Every single time. Tygra's not a bad guy. I just don't think he understands how sick I am of hearing that. Whether he's just kidding or not."

_And now I must sound like the whiniest teenager ever. Congratulations self, you've reached a new low._

Snarf's sudden yowl of disapproval from his arms made him glance down. Wrapping his little forelegs around his owner's neck, Snarf buried his cold nose against Lion-O's jugular and nuzzled him. Snarf had heard a little of their swapped anger himself. "Snarf likes me, I guess. I'm grateful for that. And I'm glad I have you guys as friends."

Cheetara sipped at her cup, watching the steam roll from it in a delicate dance. "Why would it have upset you so much if I _had _gone with Tygra? If it turned out perhaps we were going to spend an evening together? Does that suddenly mean I've rejected your friendship in your book? Does a person have to choose to be friends with one of you and utterly reject the other?"

"No, no…but…"

Snarf felt Lion-O's throat constrict and meowed in alarm, putting one little paw against the muscles that had contracted. Lion-O stroked Snarf's head, trying not to think of it – Tygra and Cheetara, together, her falling for him like so many other girls had. Tygra was not cruel – not on purpose – but he had that easy, slightly dangerous charm that intrigued women, and guys like Lion-O, with all the understanding of a child, simply couldn't grasp the concept of it. He didn't know how to flirt. He didn't know how to charm or lure in women who were fascinated by that unnerving, exotic element that Tygra exuded. He didn't know how to kiss and he hadn't ever held paws with a girl.

All he knew was that if Cheetara had picked Tygra, his heart would have broken. Like an utter imbecile, he'd fallen for her and there was no climbing back up the way he'd dropped. Every time he saw her, his insides seemed to twist and fill with light, and whenever she grinned at him, or touched his arm, or any little motion that expressed affection toward him, his heart surged and started beating fast, faster than it had ever gone before.

When had a crush come to this? When exactly had he fallen in love?

Lion-O's jaw was tight and it was all he could do to stare at her. For once he _wanted_ her to be able to read his mind; it would be so much simpler if she just understood instantly all the bizarre, painfully wonderful feelings and thoughts. See how far out on a limb he was going.

"…But…you're the one person I don't think I could handle telling me I'm _second _again." Cold air ripped by, chilling his exposed skin even through his fur. Snarf keened and shivered, feeling the odd little way Lion-O ducked his chin, as if protecting Snarf from the cold air was enough to defend himself from any sentences coming back.

He didn't know if she understood the full implication of his words. Probably not, it probably seemed disjointed from what she'd been asking, but he wasn't willing to say any more. Shifting on the sidewalk and gazing down the street, Lion-O shook his head. "I need to get Snarf out of the wind. And I guess…I'll call you later."

What a clumsy way to say goodbye after baring his bleeding heart. He turned around and took two steps, wincing at the coldness of new snow and bitter air under his feet.

"Are we on then? For Sunday evening?"

He stopped and twisted his head slowly to look over his shoulder at her. She was holding the cup of cocoa and swirling it, weight resting more on her right leg than her left and head tilted. "You still want to go with me?"

She sighed and walked toward him, halting in front of him and petting Snarf, scratching beneath his chin. "Obviously. The whole point of caring about somebody is spending time with them and helping them even when they do strange things. It'd be pretty poor of me to tell you I didn't want to go with you just because you were finally honest about some of the things that bother you." Her tone was not disparaging, and Lion-O searched her eyes as best he could, as deep as he could see into Cheetara's reflective, veiling eyes.

_She still doesn't look like she thinks I'm crazy._ If he had the boldness, if he had the courage, he might have kissed her right then. But he didn't, lingering before her and scrutinizing her eyes for nearly five seconds. Which was likely for the best, anyway.

"Are you sure?"

Her head tilted to the other side, one eyebrow lowering. "Yes. If you ask again, I'll kick you."

The random statement made him blink, and Lion-O's face was still for a moment. Then his mouth curved upwards and he said, "I…I can't think of anything I'd rather do more."

_Corny. Geeky. But very, very true._

Her eyes softened and she smiled back at him. "Okay then. Sunday night. Formal wear, remember. This guy's up there with the big dogs; just because we lowly peasants are allowed to attend doesn't mean we can dress comfortably."

"Okay." She gave Snarf a final pat, and then – strangely enough – touched Lion-O's shoulder.

"Sounds fun. Hey, you're still coming over this week for turkey. We've got more leftovers than we know what to do with, and you did not gain two pounds as I demanded." She pointed at his chest. "And you haven't had actual Thanksgiving turkey in years. That is just appalling. I'll be calling you tomorrow after class. And the next bus doesn't come for another half hour, you should come inside."

Lion-O glanced down the street. "I think I need to replenish my groceries actually. I'll pick up some from the shop down here." He didn't know what he'd say to her right now. And it had occurred to him that he was out of bread.

"If you're sure. If I come out and find you standing out here in the cold, I'll drag you inside and set Kat and Kit loose on you." And with that and a few careful steps up the slippery stairs, she headed after Jaga into the clinic door, shutting it gently behind her.

What did it all mean? Was it just her being nice and going as friends?

Or did she, possibly-?

He clamped down on the feeling, holding it at arm's length. He was _not_ going to jump to conclusions. He was _not_ going to assume that, for the first time ever, a girl was actually interested in him as more than the guy the teacher assigned as her lab partner because she hadn't gotten a lab partner when she was absent, or the obligatory guy friend.

He was _not _going to assume that she felt something of that flame and light when she looked at him, as he did when he looked at her.

But it was hard not to hope.

Snarf purred and nuzzled Lion-O's face. "What do you think, buddy? You think maybe she likes me?"

"Snarf!"

"I hope so, too. I…I really hope so."

* * *

><p>1 – I get the idea that Lion-O, if he didn't have to worry about saving the world, would have preferred a simple life of freedom and helping people as opposed to the "boon" of being king. I mean, when you get down to it, he's bound to a role he has no choice in, and he has to follow it wherever it leads. No liberty to be or do what he really wants, gotta rebuild and protect a kingdom, monsters out for your blood for the rest of your life…being king would be kind of sucky. It's the role he's born to play, and <em>play it he must<em>. It would take a very noble heart to actually take that mantle and do it without getting really embittered, if one wanted to be a good king. Then again, that's the charm of the reluctant hero out to save the world, I suppose. Kind of like Link from Legend of Zelda, y'know? Or Aang, or Sora. I'll stop the comparisons now.

I'm sometimes amused by people saying Lion-O gets the big important destiny and that's what he gets. While it will most definitely bring about good for others – which is a wonderful and noble thing – the grand destiny really puts _him_ through pain and misery. Call me crazy, but glory after fighting the most terrifying beast in the universe probably doesn't really make the problems afterward any better. And of course, he takes it up as best he can, which is one reason I like him so much. Ah, but I'm a sucker for the "pure of heart dreamer put through anguish but tries to keep the faith" character – that I'll admit. Some like "bad" boys – I prefer the boys who have gone through bad and retain their "good." They have a great deal of opportunity for unexpected complexity…to each their own, I suppose.

2 – I like Feles. She featured in the third chapter of 'Lean On Me,' and I think she's cute. She may feature a bit more in other stories as an extra. She's got a completely unrequited and unnoticed crush on the handsome Tygra, or so she tells me.

3 – Anybody else notice that? Colleges charge an arm and a leg for stuff, and not just tuition. I can get flash drives cheaper anywhere else.

4 – My college sells what appear to be plush microbes. Yeah, you know, bacteria. I…find them somewhat disturbing.

5 – The name 'Harbor Street' comes from an episode of _Hey Arnold_ called, 'Helga on the Couch,' though I'm not sure of the whole rhyme. From what I've heard on the show, the rhyme goes, "When they get in fights, this is what they say; boys are rotten, made out of cotton, girls are sassy, made from molass-y. Boys go to Jupiter to get more stupid-er, girls go to college to get more knowledge." There's some line about "sexy-Pepsi" in the common version, and I think it sounds stupid. No bias against either gender is meant by the use of this rhyme.

6 – Apparently there is no official name for the blue, cat-horse critters – christened "Thunderan Mounts" or something on the Crew of Omens tumblr – so I have affectionately decided to call them "catallos." Ca-tai-yos. Because "caballo" is the Spanish word for "horse," only they're, like, cats. Y'know?

Well, it's better than "Thunderan Mount" for the sake of this story. Until they think up names, if they do, perhaps this one will stick.

7 – The relationship between Meg and Charles is kind of like the polar opposite of the one between Tygra and Lion-O. Meg believes Charles is the special one and wants to protect him and make him happy, whereas – yeah, you know. Just something interesting, I thought.

8 – Tuskas were in the old series. Big ole walrus dudes. I've no idea if they'll show up in the new series or not. But apparently one is Santa here. Yes he is.

Now if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to go work on the next, rather more romantic chapter. Oh and Mumm-Ra shows up, that too…


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Again, I own no songs, characters, books, brands, etc. The situation has not changed. Believe me, if it does, I'll let you know.

Okay. There are seventy-seven pages in this chapter. I'm so tired of looking at it I could hurl. I'm relatively pleased with it, and I hope you will enjoy it, as quite a bit of work went into it. Here, my dears, comes some drama.

Oh, yeah, and some Lion-O and Cheetara date – if Lion-O dares to call it that – interaction, that too. Dedicated to all my fellow LiChee fans out there. I hope you are not disappointed with this offering. TyChee fans, I have given you warnings. If you can't at least tolerate LiChee, here's another – you ain't gonna like it.

I made an error last chapter other than the occasional typo; I called the twins "eight." They would both be nine by now. A birthday occurred in the summer for them, so they are nine currently. And Cheetara's twenty now, Tygra's twenty-one, and Lion-O's eighteen, just to give some perspective. And Jaga's older than dirt, but you knew that.

Also, Will Friedle did an excellent job as Lion-O in episode fourteen. During the discussion with Cheetara, Lion-O sounded so hurt and confused that I nearly cried. And I don't do that for just any character. Good grief, I just wanted to hop through the screen and hug the poor kid. Which would probably terrify him out of his angst when you think about it.

Also, episode 16? Lion-O = win. That is simply the way things are. Willing to enter limbo forever in order to save his peeps? Freaking. Brave. End of story. Will Friedle apparently helped write that episode too. So…Mr. Friedle, get ever more involved in TC please. That episode gave me hope.

Anyway…I pray you all have had a blessed, Happy Easter! Enjoy the chapter my friends.

* * *

><p>"<em>A waltz for the chance I should take-<br>But how will I know where to start?  
>She's spinning between constellations and dreams,<br>Her rhythm is my beating heart._

So she dances,  
>In and out of the crowd like a glance<br>This romance is  
>From afar calling me silently….<p>

I can't keep on watching forever.  
>And I'm giving up this view just to tell her…"<p>

_So She Dances_, Josh Groban

* * *

><p>"It's not that difficult a recipe. I just don't know why I can't make it."<p>

Lion-O didn't immediately respond, gazing down at the dish. "It looks fine to me."

Cheetara glanced at him. Admittedly, it looked lumpy and grainy, but as homemade stuffing, he knew it wasn't supposed to look like the instant box mix. It was odd, but Lion-O could feel frustration rolling off of Cheetara, simmering like the oven as its heat slowly faded. "I forgot butter. Again."

"But you remembered the celery, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's already better, right? Besides, isn't butter bad for you?" She put her paws on her hips, examining the stuffing before her.

"Yes…but stuffing without butter is just kind of wrong. It's basically just…bread and veggies and soup broth. We saved the other stuffing to feed the pidge-doves that stayed in the city for the winter. They like it, and the kittens like to feed them. But I kind of wanted to get it right this time, since I've already screwed it up once."

"_I'll _bet you just wanted to impress _Lion-O_. You said you wanted it to be like a traditional Thanksgiving Dinner…" Kit said, nudging Cheetara, who simply shook her head a little.

"If by 'impress' you mean 'make stuffing that doesn't taste terrible for,' then sure. Whatever floats your boat, kiddo."

Lion-O tilted his head, and noticed that there actually _was_ a disappointed wilt to her mane, a slight dipping of her ears. "Well, you know what? My version of stuffing comes out of a box. Add hot water and bingo, you've got stuffing. I'm in no position to judge."

Cheetara gave him a slight smile. "Let's see if you feel the same way once you taste it. It'll be cool in fifteen minutes, which gives us enough time to heat up some turkey and potatoes. We'll start eating at five. And Jaga's pecan pie, we saved you a slice. He only makes it from now until Christmas, it's great. He's an amazing cook."

"I've been cooking for finicky children for about fifteen years now, and I've never had a wife to help me; I should hope I know what I'm doing in the kitchen." Jaga looked over Lion-O's shoulder at the stuffing. "I think it's just a tradition, Cheetara. You're quite good at cooking in other respects. And your mother never could get it right either."

"I wasn't that finicky, was I?" she asked, looking a little mollified at the mention of screwing up in the same fashion as her mother.

"No, I suppose not…except for when you were seven. You ate macaroni and hot dogs every time I'd let you, and anything else you just didn't want to go near, and I found it difficult to argue with you at every meal. I eventually started sneaking vegetables into your macaroni, or hiding them under the hot dog and ketchup. It was strange. Then you turned eight and wanted to try everything." Kat peeped up over the edge of the oven, bumping against Lion-O's side as he did so.

"It looks okay. The gravy that goes with it will help." Cheetara took his paw and scooted him gently away from the stove, heat still rolling from the metal.

"I don't know. Every time I try to make it, it just tastes wrong. Maybe I bake it too long."

Snarf pawed at Lion-O's ankle, and he stooped to pick up the creature. Snarf gave the stuffing a critical look and a slight sniff. "Snarf-Snarf-Snarf."

"He thinks it looks okay." Actually, Snarf had said something more like, "I'm gonna need a lot of gravy to get that down. It's reeeally burnt on the bottom. But don't tell Cheetara that; tell her it _looks_ okay. That's not a lie." So Lion-O did. But as if Cheetara knew what Snarf really meant, she just sighed.

"Thanks; you guys are sweet. Let's get the turkey heated up anyway; last day for it." She turned to the fridge, opened the freezer, and took out the covered dishes wrapped in aluminum foil they'd been keeping the turkey in. "I guess turkey is the iconic part of the meal anyway."

"Frozen turkey, if packaged properly, keeps for quite a while," Jaga interjected, taking the dish and stripping away the foil. "Then again, this coming from the cat who drank from a hose…"

Cheetara didn't respond to that as Jaga slipped the turkey onto a plate to put it in the microwave. Snarf sniffed at it, then gestured to Lion-O that he wanted down. Lion-O lowered him and watched as he ducked under the table to stay out of the way. Kit and Kat went to the cabinets that contained silverware and plates, taking them out to set the table with. "Can we have cookies afterward?"

"Two each. I'm nervous about you guys getting too much sugar after what happened," Cheetara said pointedly. They both grinned, faces flushing.

"Were they really that crazy?" Lion-O asked, tugging a seat back so Snarf could hop up.

Cheetara threw away the foil for the turkey. "Two tornadoes of erratic energy. That's all I can describe them as. Then again, they did eat more pie than I said was okay."

"Sorry Cheetara. It was really good." She waved a paw in forgiveness.

"Considering you both passed out and woke up queasy, I think you got your punishment. Lion-O, drinks are in the fridge, could you get them? I need to mix the gravy while the turkey heats up."

He acquiesced, opening the door and peering in. "Which ones?"

"Traditionally we drink cranberry juice on Thanksgiving." He took out the half-empty jug of cranberry juice and settled it on the counter so he could get the cups down for them. Before he could move, Cheetara added, "Oh, there's grape juice in there too. I know you don't like cranberry. Above the crisper."

Lion-O looked at the shelf and saw it sitting there. He blinked. "How'd you know I don't like cranberry?"

"You told us once. When the kittens wanted to make ice pops and weren't sure what flavor you liked." She didn't look at him, too intent upon mixing the gravy with a spoon, as if she were stirring cement, but Lion-O stared at the little jug for a minute.

_Friends remember that sort of thing. _But it was not lost on him that she had remembered about him what neither Tygra nor Dad could remember after eighteen years of knowing him. "You didn't have to do that. I mean, cranberry's okay."

"You like grape. Why would I make you drink what I know you don't like?" Cheetara tapped the spoon against the side of the bowl and waited for the microwave to finish the turkey. "Do you think you'll like white meat or dark meat?"

"On chicken I prefer dark."

"Oh good, I like white. We've got plenty of both either way. Nice napkin bunny, Kit. And thank you for getting the silverware, Kat."

Kit had been using her scrunchie to bind her napkin into a fat rabbit, folding the top to give it the illusion of long ears. "I'm artistic," she said frankly. Her ears made her look alarmingly like her brother, even if the mane on them was longer and more feminine. Kat was looking at his own napkin with a thoughtful expression, setting the silverware out neatly beside the plates.

The kitchen smelled like turkey now, and Lion-O found it different. He'd had sliced turkey in sandwiches before, but the experience was not quite the same. It seemed to simmer and soak in the air, permeating the room with a rich smell, and as he poured the drinks he watched Jaga take out the turkey as the microwave sounded. Snarf too watched, rather unreservedly, making a noise of interest when Jaga set the plate on the table. Jaga fixed his gaze on Snarf.

"Don't even think about it."

Cheetara proceeded to warm the gravy, and then approached Lion-O to help him with the cups. "What does Snarf want?"

"Cranberry. He says grape has too much sugar in it." Cheetara made a noise of disbelief and put one of the cups at Snarf's place. Snarf permitted Kat to haul him into the seat and rested his behind in the chair atop several encyclopedias.

Lion-O tugged at the cuffs of his shirt. It was a little baggy on him lately, as Cheetara had noted with displeasure, but it was one of his nicer ones, a plain white one with buttons along the front. Cheetara watched him do this as she transferred the stuffing pan to the table. "I insist you eat some turkey and potatoes at least. I won't force feed you my horrible stuffing, but anything else is fair game."

"Cheetara, I'm okay. I just don't eat much when I'm really busy. I'm sure I'll put the weight back on around Christmas Break." It was a bad habit he had; when everything else had to be done, eating just didn't register on his "things-I-need-to-remember-to-do" scale. And yet, though he would never admit it, he kind of enjoyed her fussing over him.

If he didn't think about the fact that he had all but confessed to her earlier, he could act normally. If he thought about the fact that he'd all but confessed to her earlier, he had to look away and try not to let himself turn red. But she hadn't said anything about their odd conversation on the clinic steps, and he wasn't going to bring it up. He didn't know why he'd let so much spill in the first place.

_I was just desperate, I guess._ Lion-O had wondered all morning about whether her wanting to go to Mumm-Ra's gala was because she put friendship before hooking up with somebody, or if it was legitimately because she had…feelings for him. Non-platonic feelings.

He would treat it as friendship for now. It would not be safe to assume otherwise.

Kat sat down with a thump, working his tail through the opening in the back of the chair. "I'm starved. Are we gonna eat now?"

Kit hopped into her chair as well, giving her napkin bunny a pat on the head. Snarf sat beside her, at the end of the table. Jaga sat at the other end. Lion-O noticed that this left two seats to Jaga's left, right beside each other. "Yeah, let's eat! Lion-O's getting skinnier by the minute!" Kit said. Lion-O gave her a look and then tugged out the chair nearest to Jaga for Cheetara. She smiled at him and accepted it, and he sat beside her, wondering if Kit and Kat had planned the seating arrangement with Jaga beforehand.

"Wait a minute Kat, Kit. We need to say grace. We're doing this like Thanksgiving. Cheetara insisted it be like the authentic deal." Jaga looked at Lion-O and Snarf. "You see, it's a tradition we have. Everybody holds paws and says one thing they're thankful for after we pray. Kat can start, and we'll go counterclockwise."

Snarf obediently held out his paw for Kit to hold, and Lion-O took his other one. He noticed that Cheetara's fingers were cool when he took her paw, and felt how her fingers fit between his snugly.

"All right, heads bowed." Jaga said a quiet prayer, thanking God for the food, and then he gently squeezed Kat's paw. "No piggybacking off what you said last time."

Kat chewed his lip. "Um, I'm thankful…for Christmas coming soon! Because we haven't had Christmas with a family for years, and I'm looking forward to seeing a real Christmas tree and decorating it." He nudged his sister.

"I'm thankful for living here, because even though I complain, I really kinda like learning and reading new stuff, and Cheetara and Jaga helping us learn. And my art book, because I wanna be an artist someday. Or a ballerina. Or a musician." She cleared her throat. "Snarf, your turn."

"Snarf-Snarf-Snarf, Snar-Snar, Snar-Snarf Snarf." Everybody looked at him for a while, then turned their eyes to Lion-O.

"He said he was thankful to be back in Tretierra because he says there's no place like home, and he's gotten used to the dorm." They laughed, and Snarf looked pleased with himself as he nudged his owner. "I'm grateful for all of you guys. It's always fun to be around here, and I really feel like I'm home with everybody here. You guys keep me from missing Pantherle too much because I'm glad to be around my friends."

A little schmaltzy, but it was the truth. He dared to give Cheetara's paw a slight squeeze. She seemed to think for a minute, watching Kit and Kat swing their linked paws. "I'm grateful that the family is bigger this year. Last year it was just me and Jaga; this year we've got four additional members, and it's never been better." She glanced at Lion-O and he smiled.

Jaga watched this and one eye seemed to shut in an amused sort of wink at no one in particular. "I am grateful that everyone is here and safe, and that we can all enjoy each other's company during this busy time of year. Amen."

They chorused, "Amen" after him, and Lion-O – at Snarf's behest – set a couple of slices of turkey on his plate so Snarf didn't have to stretch to reach the fork. Kat and Kit both – after glancing at each other for support – scooped out a little stuffing along with the potatoes, bread rolls and turkey. Lion-O too took a serving of stuffing, even though he felt Cheetara's eyes resting on him apprehensively.

"Try turkey first. I don't want the stuffing to taint your opinion of Thanksgiving dinner before you even try turkey." He obeyed, cutting into a slice of turkey and taking a bite and carefully keeping his elbows off the table.

"It's…good." Drier than chicken, but pleasant in its own way. Snarf agreed, though he never actually said so due to his mouth being filled with poultry. "How do you guys know when it's done?"

"Jaga just knows. He doesn't even use the thermometer thingy in it; he takes it out and puts in an actual meat thermometer when he thinks it's done and it always is." Kat stirred his gravy into the mashed potatoes so they looked soupy before mixing it with bits of turkey and spooning it into his mouth. Kit made a face when he mixed them all together.

"I've made dozens of them. Eat all you want, I'm getting sick of it." Lion-O let Cheetara put one more piece on his plate. She did so with the air of one who was quite determined to see it eaten, and she pointed at him with the knife she'd used to cut it. He eyed the point.

"You eat it. Doctor's orders."

"Again, you're not a people doctor." He was kidding, but her brows lowered dangerously. It was hard to tell if she was putting on or not.

"Very well then, Cheetara's orders. They supersede the order of an MD while in this household. Stop being stubborn."

Jaga laughed gently under his breath. "Cheetara Vitesse Clera, you are as obstinate as he is." Cheetara's face seemed to flush a little and Lion-O glanced at her.

"'Vitesse?' Sounds French." She tapped her utensils uneasily.

"It is. Mom loved anything Parisian; she thought it was artsy. It's just a pity I really hate my middle name." She made a face. "Not to mention I can't speak French to save my life."

Lion-O fiddled with the piece of turkey she'd put on his place. "I like it. It's better than mine. Leo."

"Lion-O _Leo _Rey. I suppose I'll know what to say if I'm ever mad at you. Something serious about using the middle name, isn't there?"

The thought of her being mad at him made him oddly nervous, but he just shrugged a shoulder. He finished one piece then looked at the stuffing. "Are you sure you're not exaggerating about this?"

"I have tried for years to make it, and every time it comes out tasting horrible. I've resigned myself to it." She stabbed her piece of turkey. "I'm jinxed."

Lion-O put his fork to the dry, crumbly mixture and took a bite. He felt the kittens' eyes resting on him as the pretended to be interested in their potatoes.

…It wasn't the worst thing he'd ever tasted. The worse thing he'd ever had was probably when Dad had tried making stewed vegetables when he was trying to find some method of making his younger son eat green vegetables. That had made him want to eat raw vegetables for the sheer sake of avoiding stewed ones for the rest of his life. The texture and taste had been like something out of a sewer, though he'd never told Dad that. He just subtly started eating spinach more often.

And if he sat and thought, he could probably figure out something else that approached this level of…not-quite-good flavor.

"Snarf." Snarf chewed at his portion as well, eating as if nothing were wrong. True to his word he was using a lot of gravy, but hey, he ate normally. It was interesting to see him pick up his cup and drink from it with both tiny paws.

Cheetara tried it herself and just kind of stared at it. "…It's burnt."

"Not badly." Jaga took another bite of it. His poker face was enviable. The kittens managed to keep their faces even as they ate what little they'd put on their plates. "Oh. I'll be back in a moment," he added, starting to get up. "We have a few interesting specimens of briar mice here for the week, and I need to make sure-"

"I'll get it. Sunflower mix, right?" He nodded and Cheetara got up, wiping her mouth with her napkin. "They haven't been eating well, according to their owner," she explained. "We're getting them to increase their intake daily. They go crazy for sunflower seeds."

She left the room after that. Snarf made sure she was gone before making a face and sticking his tongue in his pile of mashed potatoes. "Blaaah…"

"Thanks for waiting to do that," Lion-O said quietly. "You ate most of it, I think you're fine." He continued nibbling at his serving, and Kat scraped his own onto a thin piece of turkey, rolled it up like a scroll, and ate it in three bites.

"Cheetara's a good cook, but I think she _is _jinxed when it comes to this." Kit too hurriedly shoved the stuffing into her mouth, grimacing and swallowing. "Think this'll be a tradition from now on? Cheetara makes everything great except stuffing and we eat it 'cuz we love her?"

"Probably," Jaga said. He continued eating without a qualm. Lion-O was getting accustomed to the taste, and if he drank something after every few bites it was tolerable.

"Lion-O?" Kit peered around the basket of bread to look at him. "Are you and Cheetara going on a date this Sunday?"

He choked. She waited patiently as he coughed and brought his napkin to his mouth. "Um…not really. We're going to Mumm-Ra's gala together. That's all."

Kit tilted her head. "But you're going together without anybody else?"

"Right."

"And it's where you dress up and stuff, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you _like _her, right?"

Lion-O listened for the sound of Cheetara returning. Not hearing her footsteps he muttered, "…Kind of."

Kit looked bewildered. "Well…isn't that a date?"

Lion-O's ears were on edge as he hunted for the slightest indication that Cheetara was coming back. "The word 'date' implies something romantic. This is just two friends going to something together. I guess you could call it a 'friend date' if you really wanted to."

Kit looked as if she thought he was splitting unnecessary hairs. "But you've got a crush the size of Tretierra on her."

Jaga gave her a glance, but Kat's jaw dropped. "Lion-O _likes_ Cheetara? Ew…"

Kit's face blackened. "Not so loud, doofus! Don't let her hear!" Her hiss was like steam, and Kat growled, crossing his arms. "If you knew anything about romance you'd know that."

"Snarf-Snarf!" The warning came just in time; Cheetara entered the room with a distracted look on her face.

"Jaga, the mice are fine, but one of the new birds has lumps on his feet. He kept shifting while I was in there, and he looks miserable."

"I should say so; he's got some gout, probably from nutrient imbalance in his diet. He'll be all right, I've got him on the necessary treatment. We'll see improvement by tomorrow. Stinking main brands don't know what they're doing anymore," Jaga muttered, stabbing his piece of turkey as if it were the one producing such seed. Cheetara scanned the table as she headed back to her seat, but halted. In particular she looked at Lion-O.

It was very awkward. "Is something wrong?" Would the kittens say something about their discussion? Had she actually heard? He would probably die if that were the case.

Cheetara stared at him suspiciously. Then she went back to the counter, peering into the garbage can beside it. Apparently not seeing what she was looking for, she then looked in the sink. Lion-O's eyes followed her around the kitchen as she looked in various places and niches and finally stopped, looking confused. "What are you looking for?"

She glanced at him, then the table, and then back at him. "Are you guys actually eating that horrible stuffing? Or are you hiding it somewhere really well?"

He frowned. "I'm not hiding it." To prove it, he took another bite. She eyed the motion like a hawk, as if she expected him to projectile vomit right afterwards.

It wasn't good, and he wasn't going to be able to say it was if she asked him point blank; she was honest with him, and he'd be honest with her, as she'd asked. But neither would he try to throw it away when she wasn't looking. The fact that she'd tried – tried for _him_ – made this far preferable to the edible, boxed stuffing he'd had before.

And the gravy covering the burnt part kind of helped with that particular obstacle. Cheetara observed him for a minute, and he kept his face blank. It was weird, having her stare at him like that.

"Cheetara, sit down, he's not hiding it." Jaga scooped out a little more gravy for Snarf, who meowed his thanks. "I don't even know what to think of you as, Snarf. Are you a pet or a person, or some bizarre, questionable mixture of the two?"

Snarf merely snickered and continued eating. Jaga shook his head. Cheetara slid into her chair to Lion-O's left and continued staring. "You don't have to choke that down. Really."

"It's not that bad. It's better than what I could do." Lion-O didn't know if that was completely true, but he managed to botch up most home cooking so it wouldn't be impossible. Cheetara shook her head, a little disbelieving.

"Kit?" The kitten straightened, ears perking. "Taste the stuffing and tell me whether it's any better this time." Uneasily, Kit glanced down at her plate and dug her fork into the little she had left. Taking a bite, she chewed and swallowed without expression. "Well?"

"It's not so bad." Cheetara's eyebrows grew dangerous again, and Kit shifted uneasily. "…It kinda tastes like sand." Kit's cheeks went pink, and Cheetara seemed placated with her honesty.

"Dinner that tastes like sand. How very fitting. Just call me 'It' I suppose." Lion-O tilted his head.

"Actually, you'd be the red-eyed…woman, I guess. Considering the red-eyed man was the one who gave them the dinner," he said. Lion-O hadn't really thought about it, but Cheetara looked very surprised, staring at him yet again. "What?"

"…I cannot _believe_ you picked up that reference." The slight smile on her face made his mouth curve to match.

"You're kidding, right? I've had that book for eight years. My copy's got twenty pages hanging on by a thread."

Kat and Kit looked at each other. "It's like they're communicating or something," Kat whispered. Jaga simply picked at his turkey and seemed to find his plate interesting. Kit looked smug and kept her mouth shut, embarrassment forgotten.

"I need to get you kids to read some L'Engle next. I think you'd like her stuff, the kids in the books are smart." Cheetara handed Kat the plate of rolls. Lion-O still felt awkwardly pleased that he'd made her happy with his inadvertent reference, and continued eating the stuffing. Hey, food that was a little burnt and dry was a small price to pay for the look she'd given him.

"More books? Come on, we've read all seven of the _Chronicles of Narnia_!" Kat protested. "Isn't that enough for a while? Reading is boring…"

"Sacrilege," Lion-O said, and Cheetara 'tsk-tsked' at Kat. "Maybe he'd like something like _Treasure Island_ better. Is there anything questionable in that other than the pirates killing the others?"

Kat's eyes lit up. "'Pirates?' That sounds cool!"

"We'll see. I think you'd like L'Engle though." Cheetara blocked Lion-O's fork in midair with her own. "Stop eating that horrible stuffing."

Lion-O couldn't figure out how she'd timed that right. "It's not that-"

"No."

"But-"

"No." She handed him another bread roll. "I washed my paws after feeding the mice, don't worry."

"You're deciding what I eat now?" he asked, accepting the roll.

"Yes. My kitchen, my law. I made the bread too, it's good at least."

The rest of the dinner was pleasant, and everything else tasted wonderful. Kit and Kat were eager to finish dinner by six because they insisted on watching a cartoon marathon that was going to be on. They sprang this request on Lion-O when he got up to wash his dishes and put them away. "Will you guys please watch it with us? Please-please-_please_?"

Lion-O – ordinarily strong enough to resist their sweetest expressions – found that the attempt was futile when Kit and Kat hugged him on both sides and held on to him. "I'm not going to be able to move if I don't say 'yes,' am I?"

They grinned. "I take that as an agreement," Kat said. They released him then, and once he finished clearing the dishes he'd used, Cheetara gestured to him.

"I want you to help me pick out some books for them. Maybe you can help me figure out something a little boy would like, because Kat's really picky when it comes to stories." He followed her, mentally running through the lists of books he could remember liking at eight. "Other than my curse I think Thanksgiving part two went pretty well."

"I liked it. Thanks for having me." He didn't know what else to say, lingering beside her she opened the door. "What books are you thinking so far?"

"I think I've got a copy of _The Hobbit _around here," she mused, examining her shelf and settling beside it. "Let's see…_Fellowship of the Ring_, _The Giver_,a mythology compendium for the Greek deities, _Pippi Longstocking, Chicken Soup for the Teenage Girl's Soul_…that's a safe reject…"

Lion-O tilted his head. "Run that last one by me again?"

Cheetara stuck her tongue out at him. "I am of varied tastes. There are probably some _Peanuts_ comics in here; I loved Charlie Brown when I was little." She found several other books she was looking for and pulled them out, tossing them onto the bed. Lion-O sat at the foot of the bed, looking at the titles as she tossed them onto the mattress and dark, clean comforter.

"I like _Holes_," he said, watching the cover flash before being covered by another book. "It doesn't use a lot of flowery language and it just kind of gets into the head of a teenage guy really well."

"I always like the love story. Something about the doomed love kind of intrigued me. A lioness and a panther back in the day would have been a scandal, wouldn't it?" Cheetara moved to sit on the side of her bed, looking over each book.

Lion-O's heart suddenly stung again, remembering Tygra's comment and Dad's unwelcome, if honest, opinion. And the picture of Leo in the sitting room at home. He suddenly felt new pity for his ancestor, remembering how the story went. "Still might be to some people. I think it's stupid," he muttered savagely. She glanced up at him. "My dad…he thinks all cats are equal, but his side of the family's crazy about blood. I love him, but I can't agree with him on some things. And the rest of the Reys are completely nuts."

"It's probably a generation thing for most people. Jaga doesn't care about breed. He just tells me to make sure I find a good cat that'll treat me right and provide for a family. Oh, and if he ever hits me, the police will never find the body." Lion-O grinned.

"I love Jaga." She stacked the books and set them on the carpet to take downstairs. Then she flopped onto the bed, mane splaying around her head like a golden cloth, looking a little weary.

"Kat and Kit are going to go crazy when they see how thick these books are. I don't know what to do about getting them into school. I mean, tutoring them is all well and good, but once we hit a certain level they'll need a better education," she said. "I've been turning it over in my head, but I just don't know how I'll teach them higher subjects I'm not an expert in. If only we could adopt them and get them into school."

"They're really smart. Maybe you can find an adoption agency that you can explain the situation to. I'm sure there's got to be somebody who understands how bad it is for Tretierra. There were some problems with adopting Tygra, but Dad found a really good agency. I'll try to ask him who it was, maybe they've got a branch up here." Lion-O tilted his papers. He'd brought them along, in case he ended up staying longer than he planned – as he always did for one reason or another. "Think the kittens would like hover boards? If my brain doesn't melt before I finish the project and it ever actually turns into something?"

Cheetara looked at the blueprints with a sort of bewildered air. "All those calculations…forgive me for becoming Barbie, but 'math is hard!' You're supposed to be thinking about fiction."

Lion-O snorted with laughter. "This stuff _is_ hard. Just call me Ken if you're Barbie." He felt his face heat up when he realized how that sounded, and he stumbled over his next words. "Tor helped me with this part, he's the physicist after all." He hesitated; for some reason, Cheetara's face had fallen before he'd ever opened his mouth. "Is…something wrong?"

"Oh, just…well, I mentioned Barbie. Hm. You know that old doll I told you about that my parents got me?" He nodded, looking at the shelf where it rested. To his surprise it had been removed. She followed his gaze and the look on her face made any mirth fade. "Well…there was a slight accident involving it."

"What happened?" he asked. Cheetara jerked her chin toward the door.

"It's a life lesson; when you know the worst behaved pet is coming in – a Crocaboar with relatively violent disposition, if you're wondering – remember to shut all doors. Because the thing might get loose because the owner never trained it and it might rampage through the hall before you can catch it, and what else would it deign smashable but a piece of your childhood?"

Lion-O's heart sank. "…I'm sorry. Is it repairable at all?"

She slid off her bed and headed to her dresser, sliding out one drawer and removing a box. She opened it and showed him the contents. "Not really."

The pieces looked like they'd been stomped, chewed and hurled across the room. The smiling Barbie face was missing nearly all her mane now, and the blue crayon lipstick was flaking off. "At least I've got the pieces. And nobody got hurt, including the Crocaboar. And it didn't know any better. So…all's well that ends well, I suppose. Lesson learned, totally my fault. Rest in peace, Veterinarian Barbie."

The sardonic way she said the last part made him lower his gaze to the papers as she seated herself on the bed again, pushing the books out of the way so she had a little more room. "Hey, it's okay," she said, noting his expression. "I've still technically got her. Besides, it's December; Christmas is coming. Hard to be depressed around Christmas. Are you going home again over break?"

He pushed the doll from his mind. "I don't know. Tygra's going home for Christmas."

The implication – fire and gasoline coming together once more – hung quietly in the air. Cheetara watched him as he put the papers in his folder, chin resting on her fist. "I think that's very sad. You don't want to go home because you guys fight so much?"

Lion-O looked at her, mirroring her motion of resting his chin in his paw. "It's easier to tolerate each other in short stretches now because we don't live together anymore. When we were both teenagers things were awful. I don't…I don't know why they are the way they are. He's mad that I'm inheriting the company, but we've both known that since we were little. And…oh, I don't know." He lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling. She shifted so she was lying on her stomach, closer to him. "Can I tell you something?"

"I was under the impression that that was what you're doing."

"Sometimes – okay, a lot of times – I kind of wish he _could_ just take over instead. Then he could be happy and stop harping at me about it. That's not really what I want to do with my life, run Thunder Enterprises."

He had finally voiced it. How strange; it suddenly felt as if a pressure valve had been turned and he could exhale.

"Does your dad know that? Does Tygra?" She lay on her back beside him, and he was reminded of the summer when they would both lay back in the grass and talk, often with the kittens between them. Her head was turned to look at him.

"I don't know. I've never said it, so probably not. It doesn't really matter though." He smiled in a twisted way, and put on a northern, somewhat snooty accent. "Henceforth, all business under the ownership of Leo Dignitas Rey shall be passed through the line of direct descent to the eldest male of the household. The descendant shall be of lion blood and will inherit 'Thunder Company' – revised to 'Thunder Enterprises' as of nineteen-forty-two – and shall be the steward thereof." He stopped and let the accent drop. "Everything else like estate and money can be divided up based on will and whatnot, but when it comes to the company, it's all down in history. I remember when Dad first told us that. I had to ask Tygra what half of it meant and he wouldn't talk to me he was so mad."

Lion-O tapped his fingers, aware she was watching him. "I never meant to take it away from him," he said quietly. "I think it's a stupid rule too. I wish he didn't blame me for it; I don't have a choice. He can do and be whatever he wants, he's got the talent and freedom. My future's been set right in front of me, and I've got to walk it."

"…That's…sad. I didn't know you didn't even want to take over. I mean, I knew it made you nervous, but…"

Cheetara shifted to her side and propped herself up on her elbows. "But then, maybe something really amazing will come of it. What is it Thunder Enterprises produces right now?"

"Computer chips, machinery and the ilk."

"Well, technology's only going to get more advanced. And looking at that blueprint, I think you'll be able to start something totally new." He glanced at her and realized for the first time that she was very, very close. It felt nice for her fur to brush against his.

"It's completely theoretical."

"All brilliant inventions start out theoretical." Lion-O could help but smile at her then.

"Thanks Cheetara."

"No problem," she said, nudging him. "I'm sure Leo got pep talks too."

"Next time I get to give you one, okay? You have to throw a pity party soon so I can give you moral support," he said, and she sat up, winking at him.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." The warmth of having her beside him left and Lion-O found that he missed it. "So…ready for a cartoon marathon to satisfy the kittens?"

"I suppose. How long does it go?" She calculated it mentally and sighed.

"About six hours." It was six now. "Or until they go to sleep."

"Which cartoons feature?" he asked.

"Spongebob. And some Loony Tunes. But mostly Spongebob." Lion-O rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"It's going to be a long evening."

* * *

><p>Lion-O opened his eyes, realizing from the light that it was quite a bit later. Four hours of a chattering yellow sponge had knocked him out. Or maybe he'd retracted into a coma for survival. He was still on the couch but half-curled in his seat, head on the armrest. Somebody had put a blanket over him and something warm rested on his side, and he turned his face to see Kit lying on him, fast asleep. Cheetara still sat on the other side of the couch, Kat's head resting in her lap, tail flickering as he napped. "They only made it four hours," Cheetara whispered.<p>

On the television a cat ran by screaming, "Rhett! Oh, Rhett!" _Gone With the Wind_.

Lion-O sat up slowly, rubbing one eye as he gently shifted Kit so her head was on his shoulder and she was bundled comfortably in the blanket. "She said she didn't want to steal the blanket but she was cold. So she compromised," Cheetara said.

"I should probably go. I didn't mean to fall asleep. Want me to help get them to bed?" he whispered.

"You can stay here for the night. There aren't any more buses on Monday night. But if you could help carry the kittens to bed that'd be great." He stood up, Kit turning her head towards his front, rubbing her face against his shoulder. Kat did not awaken when Cheetara sat him up and lifted him.

"I can carry him if he's heavier," Lion-O said.

"They weigh the same. And Kit looks pretty cozy."

They tucked the kittens into their beds – easy to tell them apart because Kat's comforter had what looked like a treasure map theme on his and Kit's had blue musical notes over a pink background – and then left the room, Cheetara delicately sliding the blanket from under Kit as she replaced it with the girlish comforter. Lion-O closed the door before saying, "I'll be fine. It won't take too long to walk to the dorm."

Cheetara put one paw on her hip. "Look, if you were awake and it were daylight, I'd say okay. But you're almost as sleepy as the kittens." Not true. Though his vision _was _a little fuzzy. And it was getting harder to open his eyes when he blinked. "You'd be asking for somebody to jump you. Besides, Snarf is completely out of it. He fell asleep in Jaga's lap half an hour ago in his office. You want to sleepwalk home with a cranky Snarf?"

Lion-O tried to form a protest. It took a minute. "I've got class tomorrow."

"At eleven 'o' clock. There'll be plenty of buses in the morning."

Dang. She was good. He bit the tip of his tongue, considering. "Come on. Stay here, I'll worry."

Cheetara tilted her head in that fetching way she did with that look that said, 'I know you like I know the back of my paw' and Lion-O felt his resolve buckle. He scratched the back of his head. "I guess I can stay if it's that important to you."

"Good. I'll get a pillow for the sofa." She pointed him to the couch and vanished into the laundry room, returning with a clean pillow. Lion-O felt like a child being put to bed, but at this point of tiredness he didn't really care anymore. With a friendly nudge she made him sit down and he lay down on the pillow. It smelled clean and of their detergent.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" he asked. In response she took the abandoned blanket and put it over him. "You don't need to do that-"

"If you tell me not to bother about you one more time, I'm going to beat you with this pillow. And I assure you that since Kat and Kit have come to live here, my pillow-fighting skills have improved markedly."

"I grew up with an older brother who knows martial arts and practiced them on me. You think I couldn't hold my own in a pillow fight?" Her finger rested on his chin, and he watched her through hooded eyes.

"In your current condition? You'd have about as much chance as a Pre-Return Luke against Darth Vader." In spite of himself he laughed.

"So you're a Sith Lady? I would never have thought it of you." Cheetara leaned over him, and the motion surprised him for a second. He felt her breath on his ear and her mane brushing the side of his face.

She whispered, "You never can tell with those girl-next-door types can you?" Cheetara straightened and bade him goodnight. "See you in the morning, Skywalker."

"G'night Darth Cheetara." She snickered and drifted out of the room and he heard her door click shut. He huddled under the blanket and mentally berated himself for thinking that, for just a second, she was leaning over to kiss his cheek goodnight.

* * *

><p>Sometimes Lion-O just couldn't focus in his dorm.<p>

It was relatively comfortable and he was used to it. He'd even grown to think of the smell of cardboard as somewhat soothing. But when the guy upstairs was singing Celine Dion – pretty well, but still – and the guy other than Tor who lived beside him was arguing with somebody on the phone, it was hard to do schoolwork. Snarf was bundled happily in the blankets on his bed, the cloth and pillows muffling the sound of the voices as he slept, but Lion-O was still working on his Thundrillium project.

Finally the noise was just too much. He packed up his work and a little money, and left the dorm. He thought about waking Snarf, but he looked so comfortably asleep that Lion-O opted to leave him a note instead. One of the perks of having a pet who could read.

'Be back at six. Went to work someplace quiet. Bringing home dinner; don't eat all the cheese crackers.'

There was one place within a block that was warm, comfortable and had food that was within the budget of a college student that wouldn't be packed on Wednesday night. Not to mention Snarf would love him forever if he brought him back a cup of chili from this particular place.

Berbio's was a small, family-owned place, and it wasn't fancy by any stretch of the imagination. But it was clean and warm and cheery, and the colorful walls and wood floors were just a little zany. It specialized in sweets – particularly in their secret recipe 'Candy Fruit' sweets – but also had other foods, open virtually all the time due to the odd sleeping patterns of the denizens who ran it. Styled like an old diner, the couple's seats rimmed the main counter by the windows, and small candles were set on each one. There were only a couple of others in the room, enjoying evening coffees. Soft Christmas music played, and one of the berbils behind the counter – Bella was her name– was swaying back and forth to the sound like a toy, peachy metal and pink fur shimmering like a Christmas bauble as she finished wiping down the counter.

Berbils were fascinating little beings, with a bizarrely childlike culture. They had a deep love of technology, and considering just how much they depended on it for everything including their own bodies, it was no wonder. The unique build of berbils had actually been one of the key factors in machinery invention; nobody had understood them when they were first encountered two centuries ago, but being the nearly fantastical creatures they were, they sparked interest. They spoke broken English, but it was generally easy to understand what they were saying once you'd gotten accustomed to their grammar. He'd encountered them a few months ago, and though it would have been highly damaging to his masculinity to admit it, berbils were so cute that they competed with Snarf easily. It was wonderful how such tiny, peaceable creatures could thrive in a seedy city like this.

Then again, you had to be the lowest of the low to hurt a berbil. Convicts would convulse in guilt at the thought. A pacifist would put up their dukes.

Bella had directed him to a chair, taken his order, and told him, "Lion-O need eat more. Look like candle. Skinny body, fiery hair." He'd laughed; berbils said whatever was on their mind, but it was never said with the intention to hurt. He found them refreshing, and entirely open.

He ordered a sandwich and a sugar cookie at the behest of Bebo, her son. Commercially, the little guy was a genius; he was too young yet for school, and the berbils were an incredibly family-oriented culture. So he stayed with his parents, sometimes playing with children who came in with their parents as his mother spoke happily with the customers and watched him like a hawk. And adorable as Bebo was, he often asked people if they would like dessert, namely Candy Fruit. He had only ever seen one person utterly refuse, and Bebo's bright eyes had looked so dim that the cat had instantly retracted his statement.

Who said the adorable couldn't be devious? Bella brought him the sandwich and cookie, and he was touched to note that she had added a small side of apple slices on the house. Before he could say anything, she poked his stomach with one tiny finger. "Too. Skinny." With that she had left again, leaving him bemused.

He'd leave extra tip. He loved this place, and the bizarre berbils who ran it.

Lion-O heard the bell of the shop ring and lowered his head, focusing in on the schematics in front of him. Almost done, and getting closer all the time. If he could just figure how to tie in the Thundrillium to the whole thing, and explain how he thought the wire could conduct the energy…

Bebo squealed happily and attacked the knees of whoever had entered. "_Paaaaaaaaan_thro! Bebo miss you lots! You come to talk to Daddy?"

"Hey furball. Yeah, I was in the neighborhood. How's that elbow doing?"

"Doing good! You help fix elbow, it no break down!" Lion-O blinked and rotated his seat just a little to see if it could possibly be…

He would never have believed it if he hadn't seen it. But there was Panthro Fides, standing by the counter, holding Bebo in one hand like a teddy bear. His jacket had been placed on one of the chairs around the counter, and he paused now to give the little berbil a one-armed hug.

Panthro. At Berbio's. Hugging a berbil.

Well, Lion-O had seen it all now. "Bill no here, be back in half hour. Had to go pick up more ingredients. You sit, have coffee." Bella took Bebo from Panthro and set him down. "I go make coffee. Sit, sit!"

Panthro muttered something about bossy women and obeyed. Lion-O wondered if he ought to speak up or not; somehow, this didn't seem to mesh with the reputation Panthro had at Ome N. Not that he wasn't tough because he apparently liked berbils. It was just that…well, anybody who could elicit such affection from a berbil had a serious soft spot in their heart.

"…Professor?"

Panthro didn't stiffen, but he was still for a moment. "Please tell me that's not who I think it is."

"Um…well…"

Panthro turned his chair a little and Lion-O gave him the tiniest, most awkward wave he had ever given. For a second he wasn't sure if the cat was going to simply say hello or throw a chair at him. Panthro shut his eyes. "You couldn't be in some bar trying to pick up girls, could you?" he asked, softly enough that Bebo couldn't hear, lingering beside the counter.

"…I'm underage. And I don't drink." The fact that he was only interested in one girl did not need to be divulged. "I'm working on my assignment, if that makes this any better."

"Nice Lion-O know Panthro? Yay!" Bebo hopped to hug Panthro's leg, and Panthro plucked him off and set him on the counter so he could be at speaking level. "Panthro very nice, and help fix Bebo elbow when it got caught in fence. Like berbil doctor! He been friend of Daddy for long time! And nice Lion-O come here for dinner sometime because he like berbils!" After this proclamation, Bebo tapped Panthro's palm. "We have Candyfruit when Daddy get back," he said coaxingly.

Panthro shook his head. "Look little guy, not all of us are berbils. Once a cat hits a certain age, it's better to avoid that much sugar." Bebo's eyes dimmed, and when he spoke again his voice wavered.

"Panthro no like Candyfruit anymore…?" Lion-O didn't know if berbils could cry, but Bebo looked close enough. He watched in amazement as Panthro – the Iron Professor – abashedly rubbed the back of his neck.

"I like it, kid. But I can't eat that much of it. Bad for your teeth, and I'll be up half the night on a sugar rush." But Bebo slumped and Panthro tilted his head back, giving the ceiling a weary look. "Agh…I'll split one with you, Bebo. How's that sound?"

Bebo trilled and patted Panthro's paw. "Panthro is nice! Mommy bring coffee. Bebo go put up more decorations now. Bebo is Mommy's helper today." With that he allowed Panthro to lower him back to the floor and scuttled off to find see his mother in the back rooms of the restaurant.

"If you say anything about me being a softy, I may be forced to put your head through a wall." Lion-O wasn't sure if he ought to believe him, but he grinned a little.

"Hey, I'm here too. Anything I'd call you would have to be put back on me too. Though I guess I don't have the same image to uphold, do I?" Panthro muttered something, and then got up to sit across from Lion-O, bringing his jacket with him.

"No point in talking between tables if we're both sitting alone. And it's not like I'm ashamed of being friends with the furballs. It's just that if the kids found out, they'd crack jokes and mouth off to me, and I have better things to do with my time than discipline idiots who think that just because a guy likes berbils he isn't able to beat the tar out of brats." He cracked his knuckles. "That, and I don't really want some of those kids around here to spy. They'd set bad examples for Bebo."

"My lips are sealed. I think it's kind of nice, though. I knew you had a nice side." Panthro's jaw was like a brick. "Or…not."

"Huh." Panthro grunted and glanced down at the papers beside Lion-O's plate. "So. Working on the design?"

"Yeah. It's coming together pretty well. I mean, it's _really _theoretical, but I think it's neat." He felt very awkward as he let Panthro proceed to scrutinize what he had written. "Thanks for the links. The one about the firm that had a grant to study it that got shut down seemed really weird."

Panthro grunted. "Tell me about it. Not to sound like a conspiracy nut, but I still wonder if somebody did it on purpose." A glance from his better eye told Lion-O 'somebody' was 'Mumm-Ra.' "This looks good so far. You've been working on it a lot. At least I've got evidence you haven't slopped it together the night before."

Bella bobbed up to the table and set a mug of coffee on one of the coasters. Panthro handed the papers to Lion-O. "Murphy's Law; anything that can happen, will happen. That looks like an A paper from what I'm seeing so far. Guard it with your life."

Elation flooded through him – Panthro Fides had thought his project looked like A material. Panthro took a packet of sugar and poured it into his cup. "So how was your dad? Last time I talked to him he was kind of down."

Lion-O folded his papers, slipping them into a folder he'd brought. He couldn't hide the uneasy expression on his face. Panthro seemed to see the discomfort, and he waited a moment before saying, "What's eating you?"

"Nothing."

The older cat scoffed. "You lie about as well as I tell Bebo 'no.' What's up, kid?"

Lion-O bit his lip and tapped his pencil on the counter. "Has Dad talked to you about the company lately?"

"A couple weeks ago. Why?"

Panthro added another sugar to his coffee and stirred it. The faint clink of a berbil rolling drew their gazes across the room. The cats watched as Bebo rolled over to pick up the ornaments and hang them back on the lowest boughs. The sight was soothing, and Lion-O said quietly, "I don't know how to tell you this, but Grune's working for Lizard Co. now. He left Thunder Enterprises to work with the competition."

Panthro eyed him with his better eye. "You're not telling me anything I don't know. And it doesn't bust my heart, so calm down."

Relief hit Lion-O, along with confusion. "So Dad did e-mail you about it."

"Nope. Called me on the phone. He was angry, but I think he was more hurt by it than anything. My opinion was good riddance to bad rubbish, but he was miserable about it." To imagine Dad being hurt or depressed was hard; he never let on when he felt those emotions, and other than crying at Mom's funeral, Lion-O hadn't ever seen a tear leave his eye. Lion-O shifted.

"I thought you said you and Grune were friends. It didn't bother you that he basically threw Thunder Enterprises aside to work for our biggest competitor?" he asked. Panthro's nostrils flared.

"I just said it didn't bust my heart. It bothered me a ton. I wanted to rip out his other tooth and stick it-"

Bebo trotted by their feet, heading across the room to the kitchen, carrying a few more fallen decorations to his mother. Panthro swallowed whatever terms he'd been about to use and instead muttered, "Well, you get the idea. Some people cry, some people get into a funk. Some people want to beat the ever-loving tar out of the jerk." He paused again, and continued, "Looking back, I should've known Grune wasn't completely loyal. There were hints, little things. But until you see something with your own eyes, it's easy to just brush it under the rug. And he always did want to run his own company. I guess I thought running production in the east would've been enough, particularly when he'd been friends with Claudus for so long. Apparently not."

"It really hurt Dad and Tygra when he left. It was partly because of me, you know." Panthro glanced at him, one brow lowering. Lion-O wasn't sure why he'd added that part, true though it was. "He didn't want to work for me when Dad stepped down. He thinks I'm an idiot."

"Huh. Well, don't let that make you feel guilty, kid. You might've been a contributing factor, but I really doubt that you were the only reason. Besides, he can be a complete pain in the tail. I thought that when we were friends, and I think it all the more now." Gruffly, Panthro pushed Lion-O in the chest with his fist almost affectionately. "You're annoying, but you're not an idiot. You just do a good job when you get older and prove that loser wrong. And if I ever run into him, I'll give him a fist to the face for Claudus and that brother of yours."

Lion-O grinned. "Sounds like a plan, Professor. Though I was wondering if he might be going to Mumm-Ra's Christmas party. Or 'Holiday Gala,' as he prefers to call it."

Panthro made a derisive noise in the back of his throat. "You heard about that, eh? Yeah, that wouldn't surprise me. I'm not going. Seen Mumm-Ra once, and that was enough for me. You going?"

"Yeah. I kind of want to see this Mumm-Ra guy. Hear what changes he's making to Lizard Co. Any tips on what to expect?"

Panthro took a drink of coffee before saying, "Expect pomp. And a lot of it. Mumm-Ra's loaded and knows how to use money to wow. Oh, and expect Egyptian themes. I hope you've got a suit."

"Suit jacket with matching slacks and button up shirt."

"Good enough. You'll see more glitz there than you've ever seen, even at a Thunder Enterprises gathering. And listen to his speeches; he'll tell you a little of the truth and a lot of nothing. You'll learn something about how to doublespeak the more often you listen to him." Panthro stirred his coffee with a spoon, watching the dark brown liquid steam. "Going on your own?"

Lion-O took a bite of his sandwich before answering, taking time to chew and swallow. "Um…no. Going with a friend."

Panthro's better eye looked skeptical. "She wants to check out Mumm-Ra too. She's heard a lot about him, and her opinion is about the same as ours." Lion-O took a bite of cookie, ignoring the continued gaze of skepticism.

"Mm-hm. All right. Well, you might see Grune there. If he's really Mumm-Ra's new right-hand bruiser, he'll be following the old creep around. And some other executives…I've heard about one named Slithe lately. Scummy, slimy…lives up to his name."

"Sounds fun." Panthro grunted.

"A jolly old time for Christmas." He shrugged. "Come on, let's talk about something else. You need any help with that project of yours or are you good to go?"

"Well, I've got a couple of questions about a few formulas actually. See, I have a friend who's studying to be a physicist who helped me with some of it, but I have problems figuring out how to apply them to the power core…"

The next half hour was filled with engineer talk. And to Lion-O's surprise, he found that, when Panthro had a student who wanted to learn…he really adored teaching. He got optimistic about it, and actually referred to him as 'kid,' which he'd learned to recognize as a term of endearment. "The whole reason I went into teaching was because I wanted to help others learn. No point in figuring out all this if somebody can't continue the work. When the kids don't really care, it's hard for the teacher to care. But if they're genuinely interested…_that's _when it's something rewarding."

Lion-O scribbled more notes onto his spare page. He'd add it to the main page later. "Professor? Can I ask a question? I mean, a kind of personal one."

"No I've never been married. Never found a woman willing to put up with me. And yes, I did break a man's leg in the military. He spat at me." He primly sipped at his coffee cup and Lion-O smiled.

"I was going to ask why you left Thunder Enterprises. It's just…you're great at this stuff, and now that Grune's gone, I'm sure Dad could use his best friend back around," he said.

"Ah…I wanted a change of scene. And actually, I've taught some of the better workers there, so in a way I never stopped supporting Thunder Enterprises," Panthro said. "But I was forty and after being in the military for eight years and then going to work there, I had these big idealistic dreams about teaching kids to make technology better. Then I met some of the ones you rub shoulders with and realized that some kids care and some kids don't. I think I had a midlife crisis, honestly. That happens when you get older. But Claudus always said if I ever wanted to come back, the offer was open…"

"Paaanthro!" A deeper berbil voice than Bebo's hummed from the door. Bill had returned and had grocery bags on his arms, but that didn't stop him from flinging his arms open wide and waddling over. "_Huuuug_?"

Panthro gave Lion-O a look, as if to say, "Breathe a word of this and your tail is _so _dead," before acquiescing and picking Bill up in a hug, grocery bags and all. "Hey Bill. How you doing?"

"Doing good!" Much in the same way as Bebo, Bill replied with nearly robotic joy, brown fur and teddy bear body reminded him of Doofle. "You sit, talk! We no talk for days and days."

"Yeah, yeah…" Panthro glanced at Lion-O. "I'll see you tomorrow, kid. If you run into any more problems, you let me know."

"Thanks sir. I'll keep the secret too," he mumbled, and Panthro nodded, suddenly smiling at him.

"Good luck on your date, if I forget to say it tomorrow." Lion-O's face flushed scarlet.

"I said we were just friends!"

"Yeah, and berbils aren't conniving little heart-melters!" Panthro laughed once, and Lion-O realized later that the cat had actually grown to like him.

* * *

><p>The week went by agonizingly slowly. Then, Sunday seemed to rush by as Lion-O's nerves started kicking in, realizing that he didn't know what exactly this outing was and what he would do without the kittens being conveniently on hand to interrupt every conversation with their antics. Lion-O was not the only one thinking about the gala; the campus buzzed with interest, and more often than not, the professors could not get the attention of the students during their classes, save for Panthro. Panthro got their attention by bellowing once, "It's not the weekend yet!" The windows rattled, and everyone was suddenly very interested in what he had to say.<p>

Even Tor was interested in the gala. He came to Lion-O's dorm one evening, lonely and looking for help on an English paper, and after they worked on their schoolwork he ended up staying a while, which was a pleasant change from the average evening. "Yeah, I'm going with my girlfriend Jagana. Apparently everybody who's anybody is going to be attending, and the head of the lab we're working with wants us to meet up with all the big wigs and impress them so we can get more funding for future projects. Jagana's just excited that she gets to dress up and drag me out in public in a suit."

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend." Tor grinned.

"She's a nutcase physicist like me. She talks lip gloss and Newton's Laws. Love her to death. I'll introduce you to her if I see you there. You going with anybody?"

Lion-O glanced at Snarf who was sitting contentedly in his lap and snickering. "Cheetara Clera. She wanted to see Mumm-Ra and listen to his speech."

Tor whistled. "You mean that cute cheetah that came by over the summer? Wow, kudos. You've been crushing on her for months. And here I thought you were too awkward to make a move!" Lion-O felt his face burn.

"I didn't make a move, we're just…I think it's just as friends. But she wanted to go with me instead of going with my brother on a date, so maybe it's not."

"Sounds like she's interested. Then again, we're guys, so what do we know about the female psyche?" Tor's lips parted in a sly grin. "You ask her or did she ask you?"

"She asked me. As friends." If he kept telling himself that, maybe he could convince himself of it. Tor still looked smug, and Lion-O elbowed him. "Come on, don't get my hopes up."

So, feeling a little better as a result of Tor's encouragement and positively lackadaisical way of viewing the whole thing, Lion-O managed to not be a completely nervous wreck as he alternately read and finally finished his project on Sunday. It was hard to look over the hover board design, and nearly as hard to read any of the books that usually held his attention for a couple hours. Every romantic instance in the books made him suddenly hyper aware of the coming evening, even though he told himself over and over that it was just-oh, who was he kidding?

He was half-praying that it wasn't. But at the same time, the idea of it being something more than platonic terrified him as much as it delighted him. What if he screwed this up as Tygra had said he did to everything? What if it was a friend thing, he took it wrong, and completely weirded her out? What if she was interested in him but he did something to convince her he was an idiot? What if they ended up dating and something caused a horrible breakup and the friendship they had was tarnished forever?

Lion-O felt Snarf's paw smack him on the cheek, and he realized Snarf had been meowing at him for a whole minute and bouncing in front of him to get his attention. Too deep in his thoughts, Lion-O looked at Snarf whom had climbed his arm to his shoulder to slap him and meow in his ear. "Sorry, Snarf. I'm just scared."

"Snarf-Snarf. Sna-Snarf-Snarf?"

"Yeah, I know. But this is different. It's just going to be us at a social event, and I don't know what to expect."

"Snarf-Snarf."

"What do you mean, 'being a scaredy-cat?' You try going out with a girl you're crushing on and not letting on about it, and then talk to me about being a chicken!"

Of course, Snarf was only trying to help. And arguing with him did manage to make Lion-O forget about his nerves long enough to shower and make himself somewhat more presentable than usual.

No amount of combing, cutting or preening would ever make his mane completely smooth and coifed. So he settled for combing it until it mostly behaved, and making sure his fur didn't stand up funny anywhere. He hadn't known what to expect at the event other than fancy clothing in general, so he'd worn his black suit jacket over a white button up shirt with the matching pants. Not an official tux, but it was a nice enough suit. It was basically his only outfit he had that was sophisticated as opposed to just neat.

Snarf was an incredibly talented creature, but even he could not figure out the workings of a bow tie, so Lion-O was left trying to figure out that on his own. In the end he managed to make it relatively straight, and decided to live with it. And with a final approval from Snarf and a quick glance over in one of the bathroom mirrors, he left the dorms.

Considering where the gala was going to be held on campus, it was not too terribly strange to go to the clinic before heading there; Ome N. was massive, and even after a year of attendance, Lion-O still wasn't entirely sure where everything was. And even though he knew Cheetara could have gotten there safely on her own, the idea of not escorting her there was not one he could entertain. And there was one other thing he needed to get before meeting her.

Lion-O agonized over it, but finally decided that it would not seem too odd for a guy to get a girl a corsage, friendship or otherwise. It was probably only customary to do so at prom, but he stopped by the florist's to get one. The Petalar running it had been only too happy to assist him with picking one out.

"Okay, if we're going by color and wanting to send a message with it, red means true love, respect and passion. Pink means appreciation and sometimes secret affection. White means purity and innocence. And the mixtures of color all mean something different, everything from 'I'm sorry' to 'I love you but it's complicated.'"

Lion-O just stared at the little female on the counter. "What should a guy get for a girl he likes but is trying to act like it's just a friendship thing?"

She looked sympathetic. "Get her a pink rosebud, sweetheart. Good luck."

He took her advice and thought that, platonic or not, it was a pretty flower, rimmed in gold ribbon and baby's breath.

When he got to the clinic, Lion-O had to stop just outside to try to make his fingers steady. He wasn't petrified, but at the same time he wasn't at ease. This was Cheetara, his best friend and the person who seemed to get all his quirks and whom he strangely seemed to understand in turn when she would let him. Cheetara, who was the only girl who'd ever paid any attention to him and had, quite by accident, stolen his heart.

"Just be yourself," Snarf had told him. "She likes that."

He knocked on the door. At ten in the evening he didn't feel comfortable just entering as he could during daylight hours. A kitten popped up behind the glass door, then another, scaring him senseless. Kat and Kit opened the door with wide eyes to let him in.

"Lion-O, ya look all spiffy. It's weird," Kat said, looking over the jacket.

"I think it's nice. And I prefer 'sophisticated,'" Kit said primly. Kat rolled his eyes.

"We've been having vocab lessons lately. Kit's trying to use bigger words." Kit darted ahead of her brother, glancing back at the two as she went.

"Cheetara's still getting ready. Jaga's in the kitchen if you wanna wait with him. Kit says you can't see Cheetara until she's all ready." Kat shook his head. "She's getting crazier all the time."

"I'm sure she just likes helping Cheetara dress up. Girls tend to like that sort of thing more than boys." Kat stuck his tongue out, watching his sister sprint back down the hall before he dipped into the kitchen. Jaga was sitting at the table with a mug of what looked like tea with a few papers in front of him.

"Hello Lion-O. Eleven-letter word meaning disaster." Lion-O looked at the pages – crossword puzzles, most of them finished.

His paws felt sweaty. "Catastrophe."

Jaga wrote it down. "Yes, that fits." Kat, at the risk of being made to try such odd word games, slipped out the door to the living room, and Lion-O heard the television going. "So. Ready for the evening?"

"I guess." Lion-O took a seat, glancing once at the clock. "The bus leaves in about fifteen minutes, but they're running all night, so it doesn't matter if have to wait a little to take the next one."

His nervousness lowered a bit around Jaga. Jaga knew the whole situation, so he could be honest with him and just talk. The old cat finished his crossword and set it aside.

"She's almost ready. She'll be down in about ten minutes, I think." Jaga examined the clock, in the shape of an owl on the wall. "No curfew, but do call if you think you'll be out later than midnight."

"'No curfew?'" Jaga eyed him, and Lion-O wished he hadn't sounded so surprised. "I mean, it's just…you know, it's Tretierra."

"Lion-O, honestly, I know you pretty well. You'd as soon make an unsavory or dishonorable move on Cheetara or take her somewhere unsafe as you'd streak down the halls of Ome N." Lion-O choked, getting the unwelcome mental image of – well, an unwelcome mental image. "And even if you were taken over by a parasitic alien that ate your brain and_ did_ try something, she wouldn't stand for it. She can take care of herself. So, provided you call if you're going to be out later, I don't mind."

Lion-O fiddled with the corsage in his paws, letting his thumb drift along one of the outer petals. "Do you think the corsage is too much?"

"I think it was very thoughtful of you. It's rather nice, considering she didn't get one from a boy for prom." Jaga sighed through his nose, and Lion-O frowned.

"She didn't have a date to prom?"

"No. Neither junior nor senior year. She was asked, but not by anyone who interested her." Jaga peered at him from under his bushy eyebrows. "Does that surprise you?"

"Well…yeah. But I guess if she turned them down, that makes sense. I mean, if nobody asked her at all I'd have to wonder what was wrong with the guys at her school." Jaga smiled, seating himself across the table. Lion-O fidgeted, setting the corsage down and letting one claw drift along the edge of a petal. "This…is just a friend thing, isn't it." He didn't ask. Jaga was rather interested in fiddling with the edge of his mustache, not looking at Lion-O.

"Is it?" Lion-O exhaled, looking at his paws and the delicate bloom between them as the baby's breath quivered. He shrugged. Jaga glanced at the clock again. "Well, what do you want it to be, Lion-O?"

He watched Jaga idly twist the edge of his beard. "You know the answer to that."

"Yes. But does she?" Lion-O shrugged again.

"I think I've been pretty obvious. I mean, I haven't exactly said blatantly, 'I have more than platonic feelings for you.' But…I told her I couldn't stand be second to my brother. Not to her."

He looked up at the clock and watched the owl's eyes rove back and forth in time to the tick-tock. "My brother, Tygra. He likes her too."

"Yes. I'm aware of that." Lion-O met Jaga's gaze as the old cat quit his fiddling. "And you think she likes him instead?"

"I don't know. She acts like she likes him, but not necessarily…you know, like _that_. And it's not like I want her to hate him. I just-"

"Want her to like _you _more." Jaga's understanding eyes were gentle, and reminded Lion-O of polished marbles, reflective like glass.

"Is that selfish? I don't hate my brother, but I couldn't stand it if they got together." He set his chin in his paw, staring down at the flower again, looking at the clumps of baby's breath that rimmed it again. "Or I guess I could, but I don't know what I'd do. If they were happy, I guess I..." Lion-O's eyes shut in embarrassment. "I sound dumb."

"You sound honest, Lion-O. And I don't think it's selfish to hope Cheetara has more love for you, and likes you more than he. If it isn't too presumptuous of me – I assure you I think Tygra is a decent young cat…for the most part – Tygra is accustomed to people liking him more than you. But I think that you have a little more in common with Cheetara than he does."

Lion-O thought about that, eyes resting on Jaga's mouth. It was a quiet line. "How? They're both smart, both really talented."

"I would argue that you are as well. There are different talents and different intelligences. And I was referring to your…oh, how to say it…" Jaga trailed off. He then let a long, thin finger rest on his chin. "There are these little moments you two have where there seems to be a special connection. Now, you can't notice it the way we do, as you can't watch you and she talk as an outside party, but I can. And I see a kind of…light when you two are together. There is a sense of belief there, a dreamlike essence. A bond. But it is not exactly the same thing as mere support, or loyal friendship. Perhaps it is only these old eyes, but I see something else there. Perhaps it's what you're hoping for."

Lion-O thought of sitting with her, looking at books. Lying beside in her in the grass and feeling lightning bugs settle on their arms. Being bundled on the couch with the kittens in one big group.

Letting her bully him into staying because she knew he'd do anything he could to please her.

Did Jaga really see something there? Or was he just trying to make Lion-O feel better? He knew the answer to that – Jaga didn't lie to people. He was not unkind, but he wouldn't lie, not even to spare someone's feelings.

"Believing in somebody doesn't mean you love them the way they love you," he said quietly. Jaga fixed his eyes on him from under his lively eyebrows.

"It doesn't mean she can't."

"Ahem!" Kit cleared her throat and Lion-O and Jaga both looked up, across the kitchen to the entryway. She stepped into the room and gestured lavishly behind her. "Cheetara's all ready. And she looks totally fab."

"Thanks for that, Kit." Cheetara waved at the two of them as if she was just a bit embarrassed, and Lion-O thought that the corsage – pretty as it was – was an insult.

He'd seen girls in prom pictures in ruffled, fluffy dresses every color of the rainbow and then some. And he'd seen girls who had worn short dresses and such to nightclubs passing by the dorms below his window. But Cheetara didn't look anything like them. Not at all. The dress was black, smooth, an evening gown with a modest slit in the side. The straps were around her upper arms, leaving her shoulders moderately bare, the collar of the dress skirting her clavicle. A small garnet glittered at her throat, a single bead on a silvery chain, matching the earrings glinting in the bulb light. And her long, thick mane was bound up in a high bun that gleamed bright, clipped with one ornate barrette. They were not expensive adornments, probably closer to cubic zirconium than anything like diamond. But that didn't matter one little bit.

She was beautiful. And not just her "normal" beautiful, if that was even the way to describe her on an ordinary day. This…this woman – this lady – was actually going somewhere with _him_? In _public_? He was suddenly young and shy and wanting to draw away from her, like a shadow cast at sundown.

Her lips – smooth and pink with a lighter lipstick, somehow making her eyes brighter – quirked and she tilted her head, lashes dark against the overhead light. "I'd ask if you thought I looked all right, but you could catch butterflies with your mouth hanging open the way it is." In that way she did, Cheetara managed to speak gently and without injuring his ego. Even if he was gaping like a goldfish. "You look handsome." Lion-O felt Jaga's friendly paw on his chin, shutting his mouth for him as the old cat leaned over the table.

"You look…wonderful," he managed to say. The corsage in his paws was a trifle, a bauble. "Um, this is for you. I didn't know what color to get, so the florist thought a pink rosebud was best."

She smiled and accepted it. "It's lovely. But you didn't have to."

"I know. But I just…I don't know, I felt like it was just right." She fixed it by the band to her wrist and Kit sighed, staring up at her.

"Are you _sure _this isn't a date? Because I've seen movies, and this _really_ looks like a date." Cheetara patted the back of Kit's head as she leaned against her, tail swaying dreamily. "Do you think they'll have dancing and stuff at the party?"

"I don't know, Kit. I don't really know what to expect. It's open to the public, and Mumm-Ra is hosting the thing with Ome N., so who knows?" Cheetara looked up at the clock, making a face. "Wow, did we miss the bus?"

"No, we've got five more minutes. The buses run differently on Sunday." He would know, considering how often he took them. Not having a car was a mixed blessing; he was more limited in being able to get around, and sometimes unusual folk took the public transportation system, but it saved money. Not to mention finding parking spots at Ome N. and in this city was like trying to find blue M&M's in a bag – rare, and a pleasant surprise(1). "I wish we didn't have to take the bus. I mean…we'll stick out." Well, _she _would. She noticed his discomfort.

"Look, just because I put on fancy clothes doesn't mean I need a pumpkin carriage." Lion-O grinned when she put her paws on her hips. "Besides, I'm sure we won't be the only ones on the bus going there. It's going to be huge, and in a big city people use public transit more than individual cars, even for something like this."

Kat meandered in, giving his sister a shake of the head. "Why can't we go?"

"No one under eighteen is allowed in. I assume there's going to be some alcohol. Besides, it's not your traditional Christmas party. I'd be surprised if there were games or anything." Kat frowned.

"Sounds boring." Cheetara shrugged.

"I think Jaga's got some ideas for what you guys can do this evening. But I'd really like you guys to be in bed before eleven." Their scowls turned to delight.

"Eleven! We get to stay up 'til eleven? Wow!" They darted to Jaga, careful not to ruffle Cheetara's dress as they skirted around her. "Can we play checkers? And watch movies? Please, Jaga, please?"

He looked at Lion-O and Cheetara. "You two go on. I've got everything under control here. Though I can't promise they'll be in bed by that time when they're this wound up."

"All right. You two behave for Jaga," Cheetara said, stooping a little to hug each kitten in turn. Kat muttered that she looked nice, if girly, and Kit tucked one stray lock behind Cheetara's ear, hugging her around the waist, and suddenly refusing to let go.

"Hey. If they've got dancing, I want you two to dance. That's always my favorite part in the movies. Okay?" Lion-O rubbed the back of his neck, and Cheetara waited as Kit held on tight.

"Kit, it's not exactly…I mean, we…"

Her brows lowered. Her vice-grip did not loosen. "Bus comes in two minutes."

"Agh. Sure. Why not?" She beamed at him, and released Cheetara with a gentle flourish. Lion-O waited for Cheetara to step out of the kitchen, and paused so she could grab her handbag in the hall and a small jacket from the clean laundry. He darted around her to hold open the door to the street for her when they reached the lobby, and she cocked an eyebrow.

"_Merci_." Lion-O grinned at her around the door.

"What happened to not speaking French, Cheetara Vitesse Clera?" She sauntered past him and he followed, hearing the bus screech and smelling the exhaust. The ground glittered with salt and cold.

"I know that much, Lion-O _Leo _Rey. Come on, it's freezing." She gathered a little of her dress into one paw to lift the hem as she climbed the steps.

The driver shook his head when Lion-O made to pay the fare. "Not tonight, bud. Whole system is set up already. That Ammit guy says any and all who want to come, come." Bemused – not to mention a little creeped out, considering Mumm-Ra apparently had the funds and legal ability to basically control the public transportation system for a night, which seemed off the level however one sliced it – Lion-O let Cheetara sit by the window as was her preference. He was relieved to see that she'd been right; several of the patrons were also in fancier dress than was customary, and they seemed to peek at everyone else with friendly interest.

"I guess you were right." Cheetara had attracted a few admiring gazes from a couple of women a row back with their mane up in clips. She looked at him and he said, "Weird that Mumm-Ra would do that. Pay enough to alter the transportation system."

"Hm. Either he's just that generous, or he wants everybody there to hear something he has to say. Have you seen the building where the party is before?"

"Just a couple times. It's huge, but then, Ome N. is enormous." The building in question had been a flurry of activity for three days, making it very difficult to get anywhere near it. Many of the other students had milled around, watching in fascination.

The bus ride was quiet for the most part, shifting and rolling along its route. At one point it made a rather sharp turn and Cheetara was pressed tight to his side. He managed to hang on to the back of the seat in front of him to prevent a fall into the aisle. "Whoa. And now I'm invading your personal bubble."

The smell of her perfume – something like flowers, familiar – was nice, and he shook his head. "I think I can forgive you."

The bus finally stopped, and all of them shifted with it. "Ome North University." People shuffled forward and nipped down the steps, and when Lion-O got down he turned around and held a paw out. Cheetara accepted it and stepped down after him, brushing off her dress before looking up and whistling.

The sidewalk path that usually led from one side of the campus to the other in a winding route – a distance that, in total, summed about two miles – had lights strung on the lamps beside it. Red and green bulbs winked along garlands that had been set up between each lantern, and Lion-O saw that they led off toward the building in a winding, curling path. Through the distant windows of the intended building he could see light, and all the trees on campus seemed to have been strung up in lights, drawing attention away from the fact that they were all barren for the winter. Everything seemed to point to the building.

They shared a glance. "Wonder which way we're supposed to go."

Cheetara clutched her jacket close as they walked along the path, and never loosened her grip until they reached the building and stepped inside the outer doors, glass and newly polished. In the interior were people heading down a short corridor into the main room of the building, and the floors were pine green tile and gleaming, walls the color of gold and lit with more decorative lights and wreaths.

"May I take your jacket, madam?" Cheetara allowed the speaker to take it; a lizard. He was lean and handsome, pale lime and red-eyed. He took her name and pinned a paper to the jacket and took it out of sight, presumably to one of the smaller rooms for storage.

Lion-O didn't look around the room much at first, other than to notice that it was quite crowded. He held on to Cheetara's wrist – reasonable, as they'd lose each other in the mass of people if he didn't – and slowly worked through the people that were just ambling about to those waiting to enter. "Wow, there are a lot of people."

"Tell me about it. Mumm-Ra knows how to reel them in." Cheetara was more interested by their surroundings, and as they drew nearer to the entrance, he heard her say, "Is that a statue?"

He didn't look immediately, trying to avoid getting bowled over. "Where?"

"Right there, between-"

Lion-O heard Cheetara suck in a breath, startled, and he turned his head around. "What is it?" He managed not to jump upon seeing what was in front of her. It was a statue, a little taller than she, with a face like a mutated crocodile, knotted ridges along its snout. And there were hints of cat about it somehow, in the sculpted mane trailing from the bony, leering head. It stood on two legs, stocky and squat like a hippo's. It was ugly, and it had a set of red, glass eyeballs, and some kind of clear resin that made the teeth and lolling tongue gleam as if coated in saliva. And to top it all, there was a sculpted red lump resting on the tongue, cupped to hold it like one might hold a snowflake. And with the tubes hanging from the red lump and the sickly, realistically painted membrane, the red mass resembled a bleeding heart. Cheetara twitched.

"What _is _that thing?" Upon closer inspection – the scales were blackish green and made of thin flakes of glossy green marble – Lion-O was torn between thinking that it was an impressive piece of work and thinking that it was a disgusting image. There was a glossy sheen to the materials, particularly the eyes, making it wink when people slipped around it, cutting off the light.

"Ammit. The Devourer." Cheetara looked at him, and Lion-O took her by the elbow very gently and squeezed between two others examining the piece to get away from it. "In Egyptian mythology, there was some kind of deity-type thing called 'Ammit.' They said that if your sins were heavier than the feather of the goddess of justice Ma'at on the scale, when you died, your heart was eaten by the Devourer. I think that's supposed to be her. Ammit."

Cheetara glanced back at it, and Lion-O was surprised at the uneasiness on her face. She had never struck him as the squeamish type at all. She dealt with blood with pets all the time without batting an eye. "How did you know that?"

"World history teacher was an Egyptology buff with a thing for the macabre in sophomore year of high school. Are you…okay?"

She nodded, and he almost didn't have the attention to get nervous as he put a paw on her back, carefully, feeling her stiff fur slowly return to its average smoothness. "That's so creepy. Like…I don't know, just wrong. I suppose a good old-fashioned Nativity scene is out of the question?"

"I guess Mumm-Ra really likes ancient Egypt," Lion-O muttered. "You know, if you're not comfortable, we can leave."

"I'm fine. It's just a stupid statue. It just looked so real for a second, I just…ugh." Cheetara stood closer to him, and even though it was just a motion for warmth and the proximity to something familiar, Lion-O tightened his arm around her and suddenly felt angry at the gleaming, oily statues and creepy vibe of the hall that unnerved her. "Just weird. It's not the blood or anything. There's just something _wrong _with that thing. I'm all right. Thank you, though," she added, and he suddenly realized his paw was resting on her upper arm, a little too tenderly to just be an accident. He slowly removed his paw, giving the statue one more look. "Why would he put that there?"

He shrugged. "Professor Panthro said that everyone thinks he's…odd. Maybe he's making a statement. Like…maybe he sees himself as Ammit. I mean, his name is Mumm-Ra _Ammit_." Lion-O felt her pause beside him, and he bit his tongue, wondering where that came from. "Everybody has said he's taking control wherever he can, in businesses and employees. And if you don't, apparently, things start happening. Bad things. So he's devouring the competition." He looked up at her. "…And now I sound completely nuts."

Cheetara glanced back at the statue with new eyes. "No. You're probably right. Why put that thing there unless you wanted to freak people out? Show them you're the boss, you're in command. So, do you think Ammit is really Mumm-Ra's last name? Or is it just some bizarre, fitting change he made?"

"No clue. He might've legally changed it. Not something I would've picked." Lion-O could see people through the glass doors, muddled behind the frosted appearance. "So…ready to go in?"

"Well, nothing in there could be any worse than the statue, right?" Cheetara glanced at her corsage, straightening it. Lion-O – suddenly feeling protective, as opposed to nervous – offered her his arm. After a pause, she took it. "You're quite a gentleman for someone who says he doesn't attend high-society gatherings."

"I've seen the movies." Admittedly, in those the male was always taller. But that didn't matter too much to him right now, escorting her in.

…_Whiskers…!_

Ome N. had long had a tradition of hosting social events for Tretierra, and because of this they maintained a building for such things. He'd been in it once before, marveling at its sheer size – fully as large as a football stadium – but it had been clean and blank and chilly. To keep costs low for the school, other than maintenance such as checking the pipes and washing the floors and walls and windows, it was kept basically empty and unused. But now it had been transformed.

The previously white walls had been covered in tapestries and curtains, luxurious cloths in gold and red. Through the high windows he could see buildings and lights and black sky, but there was so much color rimming the room that he could barely notice it. The floor had been covered in some form of temporary tile, and reminded him of an Egyptian collar he'd seen at a museum once; each tile was rimmed in what looked like gold – probably some cheaper substitute, but it looked authentic – and had patterns of imitation carnelian, lapis lazuli and turquoise. At the other end of the room, the floor had been covered in smooth wood paneling, and a platform had been placed there, along with a black piano and several lizards with a variety of instruments. And all around the room were more statues, though thankfully not so disturbing as the one of Ammit in the front. Most of these were coated in gold, though some seemed to be carved from onyx. To their left were several rows of tables and chairs, covered in luxuriant tablecloths. There were sparse bits of Christmas-y decorations; some lights strung below the windows, occasionally around a smaller statue, a plant or two that might have been holly, but one thing was certain.

This party had _not _been thrown to encourage Christmas cheer.

Lion-O realized that Cheetara too was staring at the room in shock as they shifted to the wall, away from the people. "…Ever feel like you don't fit in?" she asked. Lion-O looked at her and then followed her gaze to see several people – three cats, two jackalmen, one monkian – trail by in distinctly separate groups. They were like a rainbow of silks and velvets, so many colors and patterns that his eyes nearly crossed. They appeared to be of high finance, as their gowns and suits were all obviously tailored and expensive, and there was no mistaking the jeweled necklaces for imitation. "I've never seen so much pomp." She looked down at her own dress and gave him a little grin. "What do you think, too understated?"

She was only teasing; Cheetara didn't care much about silks and such things, and he knew her well enough to know she preferred simplicity. Lion-O glanced at the stone-studded bracelets and gowns around him and then looked at her and said, honestly, "I think yours is prettier. It's got that classy kind of look."

Cheetara didn't need much adornment to shine. Something like a pleased flush seem to cross her face, but it was gone again before it registered. "Shall we mingle or glue ourselves to the wall?"

Now, amongst the students and the business cats – as easily discerned from each other as gaping kittens from prowling felines – he could barely notice their surroundings, colors and patterns flickering at him from every direction. Lion-O felt Cheetara's fingers resting delicately on his wrist, and he kept glancing back at her. "Here's a question. How are we going to be able to tell Mumm-Ra from anybody else?"

"From what I've heard he's pretty distinctive looking. And we can wait until speeches if nothing else, they start in about half an hour." She was suddenly pressed close, and Lion-O froze, the softness of her skin warm and new. "Sorry, one guy was kind of close to me. If I'm invading a personal bubble, it's going to be yours."

Lion-O glanced at the guy in question and said, "I'd rather you invade mine than him invade yours."

Cheetara folded her arm around his. "How very gallant." It felt nice for their arms to link again.

It took nearly ten minutes to get from one side of the gargantuan room to the other because of all the people and things to see. The piano was being played by a lizard, tail swaying behind the bench to the rhythm. Caterers and officials dotted the crowd, and it was one of the former who offered yet another surprise for the evening.

"Would you care for an hors d' oeuvre?" The lizard proffered the tray, and Lion-O's eyes widened. Cheetara didn't move away, but she did stare at the silvery platter and the edibles on it for a long moment, as if she didn't quite believe what she saw.

"…Are those...crickets?"

"Indeed. Marinated in a secret recipe sauce and then sautéed until extra crunchy. Though I suppose cats don't often indulge in the eating of such insects," he added thoughtfully.

Lion-O felt a little queasy. He could have sworn he saw one of the legs twitching under the brown sauce. "No thank you. I'm not much of a gourmand." Cheetara nodded her agreement, and the lizard inclined his head, carrying the tray toward a more suitable group of anoles and a geckos.

"All of a sudden I'm not very hungry," Cheetara said at last. Lion-O nodded.

"I've heard of eating bugs. It's supposed to be nutritious if you prepare them right." His stomach still churned a little. "Guess that's what we get for being city people, huh?"

"Apparently." Lion-O noted that there were many platters being carried about, and while some of them contained food that might have been palatable to a cat, there were other foods that appealed to the other species as well. Which was nice, actually. It was just a little hard to get used to seeing termites arranged in spinach wraps being munched on by a primate. Urk…especially when the termites were still moving.

It was a good thing he didn't have an appetite, as much of the food seemed to be chiefly things he'd never heard of. Nor did he actually want what looked like scorpion kebabs anywhere near his face, let alone in his mouth. Hey, if foreigners liked it, great. But the idea of eating these things made him feel distinctly sick.

He'd never had escargot either, and he wasn't about to try it now. Nor the Egyptian styled foods, strange and smelling of foreign spices. He wasn't xenophobic, but the whole thing rubbed him the wrong way, particularly after seeing Ammit's 'main course' on the statue. In fact, he never ate a thing, too disturbed and interested by the strange dishes. Cheetara too passed it all up, but now, standing by the punch bowl resting on a glass table surrounded by what looked like crystal cut glasses, they both hovered, Lion-O feeling distinctly out of place.

There had only been one time he'd ever been to an event hosted by Thunder Enterprises, and it had gone rather badly considering he'd been nine. Tygra had done just fine at the event, and everyone had admired the fact that he'd been so courteous and witty even at twelve. Lion-O had been so embarrassed that he hid in the bathroom of the building the entire time because somebody had pointed out the fact that he'd done his tie wrong.

Well, he'd been nine. He hadn't known how to do a tie, and Dad had been rushing around, so he hadn't wanted to bother him by asking how to tie it. And she'd looked at him like he'd done something crazy like wander around starkers. Claudus had looked very disappointed to find him hiding in a stall reading a Superman comic. "Lion-O, why couldn't you have just walked around with Tygra? He could have watched after you."

And there had been the eighth grade dance; that had gone badly. He'd been a klutz in that awkward time of puberty, and even going into high school everybody remembered what had happened. It took until late sophomore year before people stopped asking him if he was going to knock over another snack table and end up with pretzels in his mane.

Hence, he'd avoided the scenes ever since. Homework, after school activities, they'd been his aids to avoid any such events. Heck, he'd faked being sick once. He supposed it was only fair that the next week he really had caught a stomach bug and had been quite miserable. But through guile and guilty deception, he hadn't been to a similar social event in approximately five years.

He was regretting it now.

"Your bow tie is a little crooked." Without asking, Cheetara suddenly drew close and undid the velvety strip to redo it. A pleasant, sweet odor – hyacinths? Honeysuckle? - enveloped him, and he noticed that there were faint traces of glitter sparkling along her eyelids.

If he hadn't caught himself he might have kissed her cheek right then. As it was he thanked her, mumbling under his breath. Nine years later he still couldn't do the fancy dress code right. "I'm not one for the party scene usually. I was really backward in high school. That's why I didn't get a date for prom." Among other reasons.

"You could have gone with some friends, you know." She stood beside him again, glancing over the pretty glasses. "That's what I did."

He tried not to laugh, but the slight coughing noise he made was close enough. She gave him a look, and he flushed. "Guys don't generally go if they don't have a date. Not where I went to school." _And I didn't have many friends._ Picking up a cup of punch, he looked into it. It was a bright, icy green, topped with white foam. "What do you think this is?" Punch had to be safe, right?

Cheetara shrugged and he lifted it to take a sip. Lion-O managed _not_ to spit back into the cup; it might have tasted good, like some kind of sherbet and lime soda, if it hadn't had a strange substance in it. And a bizarre odor. "I wouldn't try this if I were you. It tastes weird." She plucked the glass from his paw and sniffed the punch, taking the slightest taste. She blinked, and he wondered about the fact that she apparently didn't mind drinking after him. Wow, he was _really_ glad he hadn't spit back in the cup.

"I think there's considerable alcohol in this. Don't drink anymore." She trotted away to the corner where there were several silver garbage tins, little more than functional vases woven around plastic bags. She surreptitiously dumped the liquid in and brought the cup back, setting it beside the other used ones. Leaning in, she muttered in his ear, "Not that this isn't impressive or to sound really ungrateful for all the hospitality, but I'm craving sugar cookies and hot chocolate."

"We of simple standards," he replied, and her lips pulled back in a grin.

Lion-O glanced around the room, scanning the opulent gowns and stylish suits. Tygra would have thought up multiple charming things to say and probably have chatted with several of the people by now. But he couldn't think of a thing to say, hovering beside this tall, elegant woman who did not look a bit out of place. Wracking his brain, Lion-O lowered his gaze. If he couldn't figure out what to do in this kind of situation, what hope did he have for when he took over the company? Why could he talk to Cheetara when they were in jeans and t-shirts and he was pretending her homemade stuffing was good?

At any rate, it was interesting to listen to Cheetara. Occasionally she would speak, pointing out a prominent couple. "That's the mayor and his wife. She actually brought her pet bird in recently. He was having molting problems. Nice lady, but a little on the frazzled side. And that man over there is actually the dean of Ome N." She gestured toward a tall, muscular lynx, and Lion-O watched him walk about for a minute, squinting at the unfamiliar face. "His name is Lynx-O Visus. Very intelligent, and I hear he's a heck of a brawler."

"Really? Wait…is he blind?" Lion-O asked, lowering his voice. Though the cat walked easily between people, looking neatly groomed with his wild beard slicked and combed, he walked with his eyes shut, a slim cane tapping the ground before him.

"Yeah. He's got ears like a bat, and amazing reflexes. He's as good at anything as anyone with two working eyes. Well, except driving."

He drifted out of sight. Lion-O shut his eyes and looked at Cheetara again. "Wow. I didn't know."

"A lot of people don't. But he never tries to hide it. He visits Jaga sometimes." Cheetara noted somebody moving through the crowd. "Isn't that a friend of yours?"

Tor. Lion-O exhaled and waved a paw. Tor looked dapper, mane slicked back and wearing a tuxedo and a cheeky grin. "Yeah. Tor Amico." He had a young woman by the paw, and her fur was pale yellow with umber spots all up and down her arms and the sides of her face. She was wearing a long, ruffled lilac dress and had her short, dark mane in a pixie cut. "That must be his girlfriend. He mentioned her to me the other day."

"She's so cute. I love her mane." Tor stopped in front of them, trying not to bump into another couple as he did so.

"Hey. Can you guys believe this? It's nuts." Tor gestured upward. "I mean, have you _ever_ seen a party this huge?"

"Tell me about it. Nice tux," Lion-O observed.

"Hey, at least my mane behaves. Oh, dude, this is Jagana. My girlfriend." He added this awkwardly, and Jagana waved.

"Hi. Tor's talked about you. You're the one who likes theoretical tech, right? And wants to study Thundrillium?"

Lion-O nodded. She beamed. "That's so cool! I'm glad there are some other people out there who realize it exists. I mean, a whole new element and nobody even seems to care? Come _on_! Ohmigosh, I'm being so rude." Jagana peered with friendly interest at Cheetara.

Lion-O flushed and looked at Cheetara sheepishly. "Nice to meet you too. Jagana, this is my friend Cheetara. Cheetara, you know Tor already, you've seen him around."

"Nice to meet you," Cheetara said, extending a paw and allowing Jagana to shake it rather vigorously. Jagana had a very peppy energy, and she looked at Lion-O and Cheetara in turn as she began to speak.

"So, guess what? Tor and I might be getting on with a different lab. The guy in charge of our internships has been schmoozing a couple of firms and they're interested in hiring us on. We might actually get near some Thundrillium of all things, who knows? These guys are up there with the big dogs."

Tor nodded toward a rather portly cat who was speaking to an equally portly lizard. "Toss Gier. He's in charge of us right now. That's Slithe Anguis. I think he heads Mumm-Ra's department of research."

There was something incredibly slimy about the lizard. Wearing a black suit did nothing for his sour eyes and baleful expression or the strangely crafty crooked line of his mouth. Lion-O frowned.

"Are you sure you guys want to get involved with these guys?"

Jagana eyed them as well. "Well, if good old 'Baron Toss' wants us to work with them, we don't have much choice. But we'll be careful if he signs us up. And we're not directly hooking up with Mumm-Ra's company. He promised we wouldn't do that. We only work with independent firms."

"J'ana, don't call him 'Baron,' he might hear." She rolled her eyes and linked her fingers with Tor's and swung their arms.

"Well if he didn't act like such a little prima donna I wouldn't. But he snaps orders at everyone, and he's _so _rude. Besides, he can't possibly hear from all the way over there." Suddenly the cat was looking at them and gestured, waving them towards himself. "Well, I hope he can't." She grinned at Lion-O and Cheetara. "It was nice meeting you! We'll have to hang out later, Tor never takes me anywhere."

He shook his head, letting her pull at his arm. "Oh come on, you know I hate crowds…"

Jagana giggled and drew him away. Lion-O tilted his head. "Well. She's friendly."

"Yeah. And I kind of like her earrings too." Lion-O caught sight of them as the pair vanished and laughed a little; one said "F=ma" and the other looked like a falling apple. "They're cute together."

"You can tell he's nuts about her." Tor guided Jagana around, and over the course of a few minutes it was easy to see him looking around to find her when she got excited and darted off to look at something.

"How do you think Mumm-Ra's going to deliver a speech?" Lion-O asked suddenly. There was no place in the room elevated above another except for where the musicians were. He smiled. "I guess he could sit on the piano."

Cheetara nudged him in amusement, but her expression suddenly changed to one of confused…something. It wasn't confusion and it wasn't revulsion, but it was definitely not a happy one, some bizarre, disguised mixture of the two. Lion-O realized she was not looking at him, but past him, and turned his head to see.

Mumm-Ra Ammit was standing in the middle of the floor.

Nobody else could have attracted so much attention so quickly, and silenced the huge room. And Lion-O felt his stomach coil in confused anxiety. Mumm-Ra was short and bent, but a small platform had been set in the middle of the room so he could stand on it. And everyone's words about him came back to Lion-O, and he realized that they were quite right; you had to _see _Mumm-Ra to begin to understand the eeriness about him.

He was wearing an elaborate red robe with a hood, though the hood was down, leaving his face and head open to the air. Lion-O tilted his own head in confusion; there were white bandages wrapped around Mumm-Ra's skull, thin as silk, but his face was a strange bluish-gray hue. Old beyond measure, lines sunk deep into the crags of his brow and around his protuberant eyes, nearly like a skeleton. His eyes were completely red, as if he had cataracts covering his pupils and irises entirely, and his nose seemed crushed back, as if he had some disease or it was broken. And from what little he could see under the robe – decorated along the border with hieroglyphs that seemed to have been stitched from golden thread – Mumm-Ra was gaunt, and he spotted the end of a bandage skirting the floor as the figure moved toward the microphone.

You weren't supposed to judge a book by its cover, or a person by their looks, but…something about Mumm-Ra was just wrong. _Maybe he's attached to his heritage. And…got into an accident. _But there was no denying that Mumm-Ra looked like a mummy, or a monster-movie enthusiast, and a _good _one at that.

Lion-O realized he had taken Cheetara's wrist in his paw, and that his hackles were lifting. He apologized –what, had he thought this old, strange man was going to rush them? – and released her, willing his fur to lay flat and for his muscles to relax.

"Good evening everyone. I'm very glad to see so many faces out and enjoying this holiday gala." The voice was soft, shockingly dry. Lion-O listened as the cats and other species around him murmured or nodded politely. "For those of you who do not know, I am Mumm-Ra. I have not been in the public eye very much in recent years as I altered Lizard Co. and worked to build it into a respectable company. I decided to change that now, as I feel that we are ready to take our next steps toward that glittering idol 'success.'"

Lion-O noticed that the lights of the room – save for one resting over Mumm-Ra – had dimmed. The effect made him seem to glow red, and his bulbous eyes reflected pale, streaming bits of light. It was dramatic, and accentuated the dark, looming lines of his face. "Two years ago, my business was located purely in my homeland of Egypt, north of Sava-Na. While I was content there doing energy research and mining ore, fate saw fit to send me an opportunity in the form of a lizard named 'Slithe.' He informed me that he was interested in joining Lizard Company and my corporation, the Black Pyramid, into one business because of financial worry and a desire to keep it going. It is, after all, an historical business. To sweeten the deal, he offered me total control with himself as a subordinate. He had heard of my rather…_distinctive_ methods of running business."

It was several decades younger than Thunder Enterprises. But Lion-O ignored this. Mumm-Ra was looking at the crowd, and seemed almost to be looking for something. Lion-O had a feeling he knew what 'distinctive methods' meant; under the affable quietness, there was something sharp about Mumm-Ra…something cruel.

"It came rapidly to my attention that because of issues with former management and a lack of direction, Lizard Company had fallen quite a bit from its previous success. Fierce competition had driven it down, and while that is the way of the business world, it is also the way of business to improve on what exists and rebuild."

Some lizards applauded politely. Cheetara's arms were loosely crossed. Mumm-Ra spoke with a soft courtesy, but his voice made Lion-O's shoulders itch. "For the past two years, I have been pruning in the company, and revising the plans that I was given. And I have been growing the company, cultivating it, and in the coming decade I trust you shall all benefit from the results."

He did not smile, but his voice was friendlier now. Lion-O glanced at Cheetara who returned the look with a rather skeptical one of her own. "What we are currently most interested in is of interest to everyone; energy. I am one to believe there is always a better method of powering our homes and businesses, and I think everyone can agree regardless of political affiliation we need to look for new methods. My research teams are on the job, and we will be updating the general public on our milestones over the coming months."

He didn't mention Thundrillium, or the fact that he was blocking study on it. His eyes still seemed to be scanning the crowd. "Tonight is not meant to be a time of speeches, though. Tonight is to be a night of festivity. I will mingle among you and answer questions, but a poor host I would be if I kept you all standing and listening when there is so much else to do and enjoy. I wish only to inform you all that I believe that the future is a bright and profitable one."

Lion-O felt a thrill of unease ripple through him. The red eyes had stopped and somehow Lion-O knew they were fixed on himself. Mumm-Ra paused and smiled for the first time. It was strange, stretching motion, as if that mouth was not meant to grin. Lion-O was pinned in place by the stare, and couldn't step backward if he wanted to. A sudden wave of control – the sense that this figure had power, charisma – seemed to sweep the room, and everyone listened to his last statement with bated breath. "I hope to continue growing the company through a variety of means. And of course, I hope to support the young talent here at Ome North University in any way I can, and aid in…cultivating them for a brighter future."

Mumm-Ra stepped back from the microphone and applause erupted, rather more enthusiastic than mere courtesy. Lion-O couldn't clap; he still felt like he couldn't move, as if those red eyes were still burning against him. Cheetara clapped, but it was more of a polite tapping than actual applause. "Well, that didn't exactly get specific about anything," she murmured.

"…Yeah." The lights came back on and the platform was removed, and Cheetara folded her arm with his again and guided him out of the group.

"You okay? What's up?"

Lion-O glanced between the heads and shoulders of the lizards and cats and every other species present. "I think Mumm-Ra was looking at me." Shrugging once, he paused when he looked at her. Her expression was one of bemused concern. "He was looking straight at me when he finished talking. It just felt creepy."

"Well, you're probably the only lion here. And he met Claudus, right?" A little of her mane had escaped the knot and had fallen in her face. She blew at it and it tickled her nose. "Darn. I was hoping it'd stay up better than this."

Lion-O reached up and swept the lock back from her brow, tucking it behind her ear. "I think it'd look just as nice down," he said without thinking. She didn't say anything, looking at him, and he realized how that must have sounded. "I mean, you know, if that's more comfortable. But it looks really good up. Um." He paused and looked away. "I'm going to stop talking now."

Mumm-Ra was barely visible, and Slithe had long ago vanished into the crowd. But looming above the rest of the people, he saw a familiar face, one with a long fang and sable fur. He blinked twice as if to make certain of what he was seeing.

Lion-O watched Grune, and he felt heat rushing through his paws and the tendons in his arms. Tygra made him mad, sure, but…Grune had hurt him and Dad. Deeply. And here he was, with Mumm-Ra. Cheetara leaned in, voice low. "Any particular reason you're trying to burn a hole through the cat with one saber tooth with your eyes?"

"That's Grune Verrater. Dad's ex-friend and Tygra's ex-hero." Well, perhaps '_ex_-hero' was jumping the gun a bit, if Tygra's reaction was still the same as a week ago. "He quit Thunder Enterprises in order to go work for Mumm-Ra as his right-hand." Cheetara eyed the figure.

"He quit on your dad? Sounds like a loyal friendship." Lion-O glowered.

"He left because he wanted a more powerful position, and he didn't want to work for me when Dad stepped down." He felt her head turn to look at him now instead. "Not wanting to work for me I understand. But Dad trusted him. They were best friends. And I thought he'd stick around for Tygra's sake for a while at least…"

As if he'd heard, Grune looked away from the lizards he was speaking to and Lion-O's fingers jerked when he saw the amber irises focus in on him. "Whiskers. He saw me." Grune seemed to excuse himself from the group of chameleons, and strode toward Lion-O.

Cheetara took his elbow, and he glanced at her. "Don't worry. We're in public, I'm sure he'll be civil." Lion-O nodded, and hitched his best politely interested expression in place.

"Well…what a surprise. Lion-O, you've gotten taller." Grune stopped in front of him, and his voice was pleasant, warm. And yet it was somehow oily, like his mane and beard slicked neatly into place.

"It's been a while since I saw you last, Mr. Verrater. Two years, I think?" Lion-O extended a paw in courtesy and Grune took it, squeezing a little too hard for comfort. Lion-O didn't flinch.

"Yes. I hear you're doing well at Ome North. Surprised everybody when you came here." Grune's small grin was met with a smile. But Lion-O couldn't keep the smile in place when Grune turned his attention to Cheetara. "But how rude of me. Who is this lovely lady?"

"Cheetara," she said, and Lion-O watched Grune for any untoward motions in his eyes, that glint of something slimy he had been unsure of as a cub. Yes, he was being paranoid. No, he did not give a whisker. Cheetara extended a paw in order to shake Grune's as Lion-O had.

"Cheetara Clera?" She seemed surprised, and Lion-O nearly bristled. Grune took her paw and rather than shaking it, he lifted it to his face and kissed it in a way that might have been genteel. "You're as pretty as I've heard. Tygra mentioned you once to me." Lion-O's heart jumped, but Cheetara's expression was inscrutable once more. "Although he didn't mention you were dating his brother…"

"We came as friends," Lion-O said, and Grune cocked an eyebrow.

"I apologize. I jumped to conclusions. Though I'm glad to see you out and about, Lion-O. My employer was very interested in meeting you." Grune glanced over his shoulder, looking for the bent, decrepit figure of Mumm-Ra. Lion-O blinked, half-expecting the old man to appear out of nowhere. "I don't know if Claudus told you, but I'm afraid it was time for me to leave the company. When opportunity knocks, one must answer."

"Dad told us. My brother was very disappointed to hear you'd left, Mr. Verrater." Lion-O kept his tone polite, interested, but he watched for the reaction. And perhaps for a moment, some lingering glint of regret might have reflected on his face. Just a bit, and only for a moment. But it was gone just as quickly.

"I _am _going to miss Tygra. Bright young cat. Who knows? Maybe he'll end up branching out as well. Not to say anything against future management," Grune added as an afterthought.

Lion-O knew full well what Grune thought of him. He didn't let his expression alter. "I'm pretty sure he wants to stick with Thunder Enterprises. With Dad." That might have sounded a little accusatory, but Grune brushed over it. Cheetara was listening intently, even though Lion-O caught her looking across the room out of the corner of his eye.

"Ah, but once Claudus steps down, don't be too surprised if he wants to shoot for other things. After all, being a board member is all well and good, but to be second in command or the CEO of your own company…well, we can all aspire. And he's got what it takes to build a company from the ground up, that one."

"That's true. He's very talented," Lion-O said. He'd never denied that and he wasn't going to start now. Grune glanced up and nodded his head respectfully at somebody beyond Lion-O.

"Ah. Just the cat I wanted to see." Lion-O's fur lifted but he willed it to stay in place as he turned to meet the gaze of the most powerful man in the room.

Up close, Mumm-Ra looked less cordial than he had before. And he hadn't looked terribly nice at a distance. The crags of his face were dark, and his eyes were piercingly fixed on Lion-O's face. It was the most uncomfortable sensation he could remember feeling; he looked calculating, almost…hungry.

It was distinctly frightening. "You're Claudus Rey's son aren't you?"

"Yes sir. Lion-O Rey." He extended a paw in order to shake Mumm-Ra's, and long-nailed, bony fingers clutched his paw with surprising strength. But the paw looked so frail that Lion-O wondered if he might hurt him by accident. The weathered, thin flesh was uncomfortable, and he didn't mind at all when Mumm-Ra released him.

"What do you think of the evening so far Mr. Rey?" Mumm-Ra gestured vaguely at the room, the finery. "I hope that I have not disappointed anyone who was expecting the best."

"It's very nice. It's really impressive how you've managed to cater to all the species especially," he added, deciding that whatever compliments he could pay Mumm-Ra would probably be for the best. Cheetara listened quietly, but he felt her paw on his arm and it soothed him.

"Thank you for noticing that. I hope you'll excuse me for sounding presumptuous, but I've heard from various sources that you're a bit more open to diversity among the species than lions customarily are." He paused, scanning the crowd as if to consider his next words. "I did not get the same feeling from your father."

There might have been a little condescension spicing the words. Lion-O kept his face even; perhaps he and Dad didn't agree on some things, but the belittling tone made him angry. But Cheetara's paw on his arm reminded him of where he was and who he was with. "We're a little different in some ways."

"Indeed." Those eyes were appraising, and Mumm-Ra looked at Grune. "My vice president has told me that you are to inherit Thunder Enterprises when Claudus steps down. How old are you?"

"Eighteen Mr. Ammit. Turning nineteen next summer." Mumm-Ra seemed surprised; for some reason Lion-O had though that surprise was rather beneath this creepy figure.

"So young! And yet you legally have the rights to Thunder Enterprises upon your succession?" He frowned. "That would be quite a burden to lay on such a young cat." Lion-O felt uneasy – Mumm-Ra actually sounded…_concerned_. This did not mesh with what he'd heard about the shadowy CEO, nor with that dark, rasping cold he felt. He gave Cheetara a look which she returned, looking a little bewildered. "You've not yet finished your first year of schooling even."

"…Yeah. Well, I'm not taking over until Dad trains me and decides I'm ready. So in a few years I think I'll be prepared." Grune seemed to smile at some joke only he knew and Lion-O squared his shoulders a little.

"Of course. But I was simply thinking…" he stopped. "Well. Should the unthinkable happen, and something renders Claudus incapable of running Thunder Enterprises, what would you do? After all, stranger things have happened. I've seen such tragedies over the course of my life."

Lion-O's heart was suddenly pounding and he had to work against his throat to say, "I guess. I hope nothing like that happens, as I'm sure you do."

"Of course! But one must wonder. Anything may happen in our strange world." Mumm-Ra shifted and his robe slid silently against the tile. Nobody dared to tread on it, and Lion-O noticed that several people were watching them, rimming Mumm-Ra's space like fish avoid a shark. A few even seemed to have cameras. Journalists…why hadn't it occurred to him that they would no doubt be at the biggest event of Ome N. all year? "What I mean to say is simply that if something did occur and you had to assume control of Thunder Enterprises very quickly, I would hope that you would not hesitate to look to more experienced figures for help and business."

Lion-O let those implications roll around in his head for a minute. "…That's very kind of you, Mr. Ammit. I assume by 'more experienced figures' you mean yourself."

Mumm-Ra nodded. "Indeed. I know Lizard Company and Thunder Enterprises have not had the most savory of pasts. Competition has been mad between them. But that does not mean that it has to be so between them now. After all," he continued with something like a grin, "Lizard Company is under new management. And we have a name change in mind. 'Black Pyramid.'"

"Sounds very interesting." Again an Egyptian reference. "I don't think healthy competition is anything to be avoided."

"Of course not. I will confess, Mr. Rey, that I expressed some of these sentiments to Claudus before. He did not take them well." Lion-O's brows lowered. "I think he misunderstood me. I was merely expressing concern for his younger son, and all the pressures that come with adulthood and such a mantle. Although I understand how it may have sounded."

_Yeah. I'll bet._ It was strange; Mumm-Ra had not raised his voice nor scowled, but Lion-O sensed a new directness in the way he continued, "Here is my dilemma, Mr. Rey. I am a businessman and so is Claudus. I have always dreamed of having a large, reaching company. But I find that building new companies in new cities from the ground up is just such a waste of time and available resources. I prefer to form deals and business relationships with existing companies and…induct them into the company name."

_You mean take over._ Lion-O nodded. "I suppose that makes sense, if they _want_ to join up with your company."

"Yes. And I'm sure you know that Thunder Enterprises is an incredibly prestigious, powerful company. Can you imagine what our companies would be able to accomplish if they worked together?"

_If you called the shots and ran the show? I see your game; "the kid's young and gullible, he'll be easy to reel in. What I can't get from Daddy I'll get from junior." _"I suppose. But Lizard Co. – sorry, the Black Pyramid – and Thunder Enterprises are run pretty differently. I don't know it would work with such different forces directing them. And I just don't know that they'd be terribly compatible, considering their history." Lion-O didn't know where this suddenly evasive part of him had come from, but he found that it was useful.

Grune was watching in silence, but at this he nudged Mumm-Ra's shoulder. "Mr. Ammit, there are others we need to talk to. And I think I've proven my point." He lowered his voice on the last sentence, and Mumm-Ra sighed. It rasped like a growl, but he began to walk away.

"Forgive me, but I must be moving on. It was enlightening to speak to you, Mr. Rey." Lion-O sensed cold, distant frustration in him, and figured he must have done something right.

"Yeah. You too, Mr. Ammit."

Mumm-Ra paused and glanced at Cheetara. Lion-O found that _that _bothered him more than anything. "I do hope you and Ms.…?"

"Ms. Clera," Lion-O said quietly, looking at her. "A friend of mine."

"Ms. Clera, then. I hope you both enjoy yourselves this evening. And _do _think about our little chat. I'd like to speak with you again at another time. I really do have a few ideas about our companies, and I think you're just the person that might make a few of my plans possible." With that Mumm-Ra drifted away, instantly swallowed by masses of people that began to orbit him.

Grune gave Lion-O a small smiled, showing his sharp teeth. "Duty calls. I'm sure you'll come around," he added softly. "Everyone always does." And then he too was gone, slipping away between the people.

Staring after the decrepit figure and hulking cat, Lion-O felt his uncertainty develop into pure anger. "I'm not putting the company under his control. I'd sooner it close down," he muttered. "Weird old guy."

"Tell me about it. You did really well, I think." He realized Cheetara was standing beside him and looking at him approvingly when he felt her touch his shoulder. "Hey, it's okay." Turning to face her, he discovered that he felt vaguely shaky, as if he'd been tensed all over and his muscles had finally relaxed. The scent of her perfume was soothing, floral, reminding him of being very little and going into the backyard to sip nectar out of the honeysuckle growing on the fence of his mother's garden. Before the weeds had taken over after her passing and they'd moved to the heart of the city. Cheetara's bun looked molten in the light from the chandelier, and the one free lock gleamed against her neck, curling a little. Lion-O let her tug him away from the spot they'd been standing, a little closer to the piano instead.

Cocking her head as if listening to something, she grinned. "You said you never went to prom, and that to date, you've never had a dance."

The sudden change in topic threw him. "Right…?"

She held out a paw. "They opened up the ballroom floor. I don't know the song, but it's nice enough."

Lion-O blinked, turning his head and seeing that she spoke the truth. The patrons had vacated the area in front of the instruments, save for a few couples that were spinning together. "Wait, what? You want me to dance? Like…with you?"

"No, with Snarf. Of course with me." The amusement offset his embarrassment a little. Her black dress swept prettily around her calves as she turned around him and tugged him forward, and he followed her helplessly, trying to place the song he heard beginning to roll out of the piano as the lizard seated at it let his claws slide and prance delicately over the ivories. "Come on, it sounds nice, if nothing else about this place is," she whispered, skirting around another statue and its red lights before reaching the polished floor, where a few couples had already started dancing. "And Kit insisted."

Standing right in front of him, she grinned again, and he noticed again how subtle her lipstick was and that delicate lock of mane on her neck.

"I…I don't know…I mean, I've never danced _with _somebody," he said, trying not to bite his tongue from stammering. Heck, he couldn't dance at all as people had told him at his eighth grade dance. The Cha Cha Slide was out of his league, let alone this(2). Slow dances were when you pressed close together and spun in circles, and-

"It's easy. We're not going to tango or anything." Lion-O felt his face heat up when she took his paws and placed one on her waist and then put her paw on his shoulder. Her other paw remained against his, fingers interlocking. "No twirling, either. I've never figured out how people do that without pausing in the middle." Her perfume filled his nose and chest, achingly sweet, and he tilted his head back a little to look at her directly. Oh, that he was a few inches taller. The chandeliers gleamed and the clean floor was so polished he could see their reflections, and she coaxed him into what he supposed was a very simple step of dancing. If he stepped on her foot he would literally hit himself. "Then again, people don't dance like this at prom much. It's more risqué nowadays. And the music isn't suitable for slow dancing, usually."

"Oh. I didn't know." She was so close to him. Her arm was warm against his collar, and the music was a lulling flow. "That's a shame."

"It is. I always kind of hoped for the eighties dream prom, even if it was cheesy. Well, minus the mane styles, never cared for that. But you know the movies, where you turn out being the prettiest girl or handsomest guy even though before you've been a geek. And that person you had a crush on actually ends up feeling the same way as you, and then you dance together."

The lights and walls all seemed to meld into pastels and gold as they swayed. _Please just say it if you mean that the way it sounds. Don't let me take this the wrong way._

For a few moments he simply listened to her and the music. The fact that there were other couples around them never quite occurred to him. It was very fortunate they never hit anyone, so oblivious was he. It wasn't so hard, after a minute of getting into the rhythm. Move one foot, then the other, to the right, to the right again…

"Y'know…this song is…a love song. Not exactly what you expect…this close to Christmas." There was nothing else the piano song could be, accompanied now by a violinist who manipulated the strings into trembling, lingering notes. Wow, talking around a tongue that kept wanting to stick to the roof of his mouth was hard. Her nose brushed his as she shifted a little before drawing back again in the motion. His heart had jumped to his mouth, reluctantly returning to approximately just south of his uvula when he managed to breathe out.

"Who says Christmas can't have love songs? I'm sick of 'Rocking Around the Christmas Tree'…" It took several more moments to screw up enough courage to speak again.

"I guess. It's just…well, anyone who sees us dancing like this might think we're…you know, together. Like we're an item." Her eyes seemed amused, darkly sweet.

"Is that a problem?"

Lion-O searched those eyes, trying to understand exactly what she was trying to say. "No. I wouldn't really mind if they thought that." He could feel his heartbeat in his ears, and flickering in his chest. His skin felt warm where her fingers rested against his shoulder, palm heating the cloth of his jacket.

Their noses were touching again. This time she wasn't shifting in step. In fact, they'd stopped moving, the world swaying around them instead in swathes of scarlet and gold and indigo. Their chests were touching now, and the warm delicacy of the fine fur along her wrist nudging against his neck made him want to shiver. Did she do this on purpose? Did she know…she was driving him crazy? "Really? Because you don't care what they think?"

Was she kidding? Did she know?

"More like…I want it to be the truth," he admitted, so quietly he wasn't sure she heard. Whether she did or didn't he never found out. The words diffused against her mouth, a centimeter from his, the warmth of her face making his eyelids lower. His elbows bent just a little, tentatively drawing her closer, but so nervous about seeming too forward, never mind the awkward fact that there were people everywhere…and only a cornball would kiss her after a dance…like…this…

A loud crash made Cheetara jerk, and if he hadn't been so surprised himself he might have whispered, "Whiskers." One of the caterers had dropped a platter behind her, and Lion-O instinctively tugged her away, barely rescuing the hem of her dress from some kind of crème brule as it oozed out, golden and smelling of sugar. The caterer looked horrified, stammering in terror, "I-I'm so s-sorry, I d-didn't mean t-to-!"

"It's fine," Cheetara said, gathering her skirt and tugging it up enough to pull the excess cloth in her lap, baring her calves a little to crouch and start picking up some of the porcelain containers for the custard. Lion-O too got down and tried to scoop up some of the broken pieces. "Really, it's not a big deal."

He was a green lizard, slippery with a dark crest down his back and spots of the same color on his exposed scales, and looked greatly relieved at their assurances that they weren't angry. The poor creature had landed on his side heavily, and he was obviously in pain as he protested, "Oh…thank you, but…I can get this cleaned up. I'm just glad I didn't ruin the lady's dress."

"Don't be too glad yet." The familiar, dry tone was no longer misted with cordiality, and Lion-O fought to keep his hackles from rising; Mumm-Ra was eying the young caterer, scarlet robe looking like blood in the chandelier light, like some nouveau Nosferatu. All the cats and various beings around them had stopped when the spill occurred, but only now did they begin to pay attention to the situation. "I believe you were informed earlier what would happen if any mishaps marred the evening?"

The relief that had been condensing on the reptile's face melted into sheer horror. Under his scales he seemed to have gone white, sickly and twitching. "Mr. Ammit, I…I…"

"You're terminated." Mumm-Ra's voice was not particularly cruel, but it was coldly soft, and he scanned the mess. "Mr. Rey, Ms. Clera, please permit him to perform his last job by himself. Don't trouble yourselves." The lizard's eyes – pale yellow and pupils nearly invisible in his fear – were wide, desperate.

"Sir, please…I-I won't let it-"

Lion-O blinked and carefully put the broken pieces onto the platter. "That's it? One slip and he's _fired_? There wasn't any harm done."

The lizard looked at him, and if he hadn't looked like a fish dangling from a hook he might have seemed grateful. Mumm-Ra's face – distorted, creepy thing that it was – was inscrutable. "I warned the employees beforehand that if they did anything to embarrass the company tonight, it would be met with severe consequences."

"How did this 'embarrass the company?'" Lion-O asked, keeping his voice even and courteous. Tread cautiously around this creature. "He tripped. Some of the custard hit the floor. A couple of broken cups." Eyes were resting on him, and he nearly buckled under the weight of all their gazes. He couldn't see Cheetara as he stood up and faced the bony figure. "I'm not trying to undermine your decision, but…doesn't it seem like a bit overkill to fire him for one accident? Everybody trips."

"I run a tight ship, Mr. Rey." However, one thin nail brushed the eerie chin, and Mumm-Ra added, "Though for _your_ sake, I suppose I can show just a little mercy. Just to prove to you that one day, perhaps, we might be able to do business in an agreeable fashion." The conversations from before rang back, implied in the words.

Lion-O heard the rasping, hyperventilating breaths of the caterer and felt his face grow stoic. "With all due respect, that decision doesn't rest with me, and I trust that it won't for a very long time. But I will most certainly consider it a personal favor if you don't fire him. It would be most gracious of you."

At the word 'gracious,' Lion-O's stomach curdled and he saw the faintest hint of yellow teeth beyond those shrunken lips. No doubt Mumm-Ra Ammit did not know the meaning of 'mercy' nor 'grace.' But if Lion-O had to honey up to this creep to help the poor creature behind him, he _would_. The question was whether Mumm-Ra would view this as a show of weakness, or an exhibition of just how completely he held the strings.

"Very well then, Mr. Rey. You," he added in that cold tone, looking down like a predator on the quaking lizard, "should be very grateful. Thank the young cat; I'd have thrown you out if he hadn't intervened."

Groveling, whimpering, the lizard inclined his head and Lion-O's face flushed with heat. "C'mon, get up. It's okay, don't worry about it." The stunned shock on the lizard's face was nearly unbearable when Lion-O knelt to take hold of one of his paws and pulled him to his feet. "Are you all right?"

Wow, there were a lot of people staring. The lizard nearly blubbered, bowing several times, favoring his injured leg. "Quit, seriously. It could happen to anybody," Lion-O muttered, staring back at some of the more incredulous eyes in the crowd with anger. Was it him, or did he hear flashes from cameras?

It took a minute, but the lizard finally rushed away to find a mop, broom and dust pan. Mumm-Ra had long ago vanished into the crowd, and – though no one had realized it before – the music had stopped and started again.

There was no question of anyone thinking Mumm-Ra had simply buckled. The terror of the lizard spoke volumes about just how this "ship" was run.

A warm paw on his shoulder made him turn his head, and he nearly yelped when he saw that it was Cheetara. He'd forgotten she had heard all that. Had he embarrassed her? But no, apparently not; she slipped her fingers into his paw and whispered into his ear, "I'm very proud of you."

_Proud of him_. The words filled him, and his heart was doing back flips. "Really? I thought…maybe you'd think I was being corny or something. Or nosy."

"No. You stood up for that guy, and didn't care what those stuck-up people thought. And I don't think Mumm-Ra is used to opposition." The admiration in her eyes made him feel light, and all of a sudden, he realized she was holding his paw in a way that seemed to indicate that if he moved, she would keep her paw there and walk with him. She was _holding _his paw. The fancy floor and elaborate decorations seemed tackier than ever now, and more people sashayed about the area in their finery. The energy made him feel a little different, a little wild.

Lion-O looked at her. "You want to go somewhere more…I don't know, informal?"

Cheetara cast her gaze along the fine dishes and slick, groomed manestyles. "Such as?"

"I know a nice little restaurant. They've got great Christmas cookies, and the chili is out of this world. Not to mention they're within the budget of a college student. My treat."

"Hm." She put her free paw on her hip, observing their surroundings a minute more. "Tempting. But we might look rude if we just leave now." He too glanced around before turning his head to meet her gaze over his shoulder. Tilting her head, one eyebrow lowered almost flirtatiously as she said, "Shall we ditch?"

"Let's." Feeling only a drop of guilt, Lion-O escorted her off the ballroom floor and wondered how long they would hold paws before she noticed she hadn't let go.

A long time, he hoped.

* * *

><p>"You've got to be kidding."<p>

Cheetara shook her head. "Dead serious. There was not _one_ couple's song at my senior prom. That was okay for me, since I didn't have a date, but I felt horrible for the couples that wanted to dance like civilized cats. It's hard to be romantic and heartfelt when you've got a headache from the drums."

"Wow. Maybe I didn't miss out when I didn't go." He tried to remember to keep his elbows off the table, but it was hard. Did the forearm resting on the edge for a second count? Lion-O examined his soda and watched the ice cubes roll around each other when he moved his straw. "I mean, the movies sound all wrong."

"They are. But then, it was still kind of fun to talk to people, and to dress up. I don't think life is incomplete without it, but it's worth going to. Of course, the post-prom breakups make school miserable for the next few days. I learned how to waltz from Jaga; I begged him to teach me. It was nice to finally have a reason to use what I learned." She took a breadstick from the basket and tried it. "Not to insult Mumm-Ra's hospitality or anything, but that was the weirdest Christmas party I've ever been to."

Lion-O nodded, glad when she continued eating the bread; she seemed to enjoy it. "I'm not against foreign cultures, and I really like trying new things, but…I don't know, that was just creepy. _Mumm-Ra_ was creepy. What in the world is he?"

Cheetara shrugged a shoulder. "I've heard rumors about him being some kind of lizard that got burnt really bad years ago, and that's why he wears the bandages. Or he's some unclassified species. I've also heard that he's so obsessed with ancient Egyptian culture that he just dresses up like a mummy."

"That's…nutty. And coming from me, that's pretty bad."

She laughed quietly. "You know what they say. If you're poor and crazy, you're crazy. If you're rich and crazy, you're eccentric. Sounds like he wants to monopolize the energy and technology businesses and set himself up on top of the pyramid if you read between the lines. Even Thunder Enterprises."

"Yeah, and people are all too willing to go along with the takeovers. Grune was my dad's friend for years; I can't believe he just up and quit the way he did. I guess Mumm-Ra offered a higher salary, but how many people is he threatening and twisting to get it?" Lion-O glowered at his drink as if it were the one swindling people. "Dad always tries to be fair, at least. If you're one of the assistant executives, you earn what you make. And he never cheats anyone, even if he doesn't necessarily like them."

He glanced up to see her eying him and he coughed into his paw. "Um…well. I'll get off the soapbox now."

"It upsets you. I understand. I think that's a very noble quality." Why was it every time she said something like that he felt he would fly? Like he would just soar, high into the air and never come down?

_Maybe because nobody else has ever just come out said they liked something about me. Not like she does._

Cheetara leaned forward and murmured, under her breath, "Those berbils are so sweet. Is the little one the boss's kid?"

Lion-O scanned the ground, caught sight of him and smiled. "Bebo. Yeah, that's Bill and Bella's son. He likes to ask people what they want for dinner, only it's best to tell Bella because he gets so excited that he forgets. But don't tell him you don't want anything, or he'll cry and ask if you don't like the food."

"That's so sad. I'll bet business is great with that," she observed, putting a paw to her mouth when the tiny blue creature rolled their way.

Bebo halted beside the table and looked from one cat to the other. "Hello, Lion-O. Who is pretty lady friend?" he chirped.

"Hey Bebo. This is Cheetara. I told her that this place has really great food, and she wanted to try it." Bebo bounced for joy at this, waving his little arms. She kept her mouth covered with her paw and Lion-O wondered what she was thinking.

"Daddy already bring breadsticks. We open late for Christmas season! What you want for dinner, nice Lion-O and pretty Cheetara?" Bella approached then, shooing Bebo back into the kitchen.

"Bebo want to work in restaurant already. He too young. Can't remember order unless it include Candy Fruit, but still want to work _now_," she sighed. "Too much like Bill, sometimes. Won't go to bed when Bella tell him…"

"He's adorable. I can't help but grin when I see him," Cheetara said, finally removing her paw. For some reason, watching Bebo bound away made her lips twitch. "I don't know, he's just so cute."

Bella nodded her thanks. Conspiratorially, she leaned toward Lion-O and said, "Bella approve of Cheetara. Lion-O can bring girlfriend back on Valentine's Day for couple special."

He went red. "We're not exactly…I mean, she's not…um. Do you guys have any Christmas cookies left?"

"Yes. Bella bring heart-shaped ones. Bella and Bill make them special for young love on Christmas."

"That's not…"

"Mistletoe over table might be nice. Give Lion-O excuse to kiss Cheetara."

After a couple more bald comments, Bella rolled back toward the counter and disappeared into the door behind it. Lion-O hid his face in his paw. "Sorry. Berbils just kind of say whatever they think. It's nice most of the time, but…"

"It's charming." Again, he was thankful that she hadn't been offended – or worse, laughed a fake laugh and given him a weird look. She kept watching Bebo, who had rolled out of the kitchen and was talking to some of the other customers. He was a colorful little ball, waving his arms and bounding around like some rubber and metal teddy bear. "An easy thing to think, considering how we're dressed and such."

'Easy thing to think' was not, 'easy mistake to make.' He smiled at her and glanced down at the table, noticing that her corsage was still strapped to her wrist and the ribbon was bright against the surface. "Do you think that caterer will be okay?"

Cheetara rested her chin on her paws. "I'd like to hope so. That was pretty big, you know. Nobody else would have done that. Not for a lizard."

Lion-O gazed quietly across the room, looking at the decorations and Christmas trees. "It's funny that even now, years after the Uprising, there's a lot of division between the species. Even in Pantherle - lizards didn't like cats, and cats didn't like lizards. But I never minded lizards." He lowered his eyes to his paw. "I guess I have Mom to thank for that. She would talk to anybody in the street if they were friendly, and I remember she chatted with this one lizard lady for thirty minutes because we were all walking the same way. She never cared what you were, just _who_ you were."

_Mom held his paw and laughed when the woman made a funny comment. She offered her some candy she'd bought in the grocery before kneeling to put one on his tongue, a chocolate broken into pieces. "Chew it up, Lion-O. Don't swallow too fast."_

_He obeyed, sharp teeth worrying at it as it melted. "Can I have one more Mommy?"_

_Her fiery hair whipped in the wind, so short. And her eyes were greener than the spring leaves. "Only if I get a kiss first." He'd acquiesced, kissing her mouth and grinning when she put another little piece of chocolate in his mouth. The lizard had smiled; Mom had that effect on people._

Cheetara gazed at him and seemed to sigh. "I wish you could have met her," Lion-O said awkwardly. "I think you would have liked her."

"If she was as much like you as I think she was, I'll bet I would."

Clearing her throat, Bella popped up beside the table and placed their bowls delicately on the table. "Bella no find mistletoe. There some at building down street. Lion-O can take Cheetara there if need to." She trotted away after that, and Lion-O felt his face steadily turn the color of his mane.

"…So. The chili good?"

Examining the bowl in front of her, Cheetara put the spoon in, blew on it, and took a small bite. It was a second before she swallowed. "Wow."

"How is it?"

She gestured to it. "That…is really good chili." Lion-O grinned.

"I know, right? These little guys are amazing." She fiddled with her spoon, nudging around the noodles.

"It's like spaghetti and chili put together. Do I use a fork or a spoon?"

"I don't know. I use a fork, usually. Then again, I'm not exactly the most etiquette-savvy person in the world." Darn elbows. She shook her head and switched to her fork. Lion-O felt a small tug on his sleeve and looked down to see Bebo staring up at him.

"Pretty Cheetara like?" The berbil shyly toddled to her as she daintily wiped her mouth with her napkin.

"Bebo, my compliments to the chef." He squealed in joy, bouncing away and clanking against the floor.

"Daddy, they like! Cheetara compliment chef! That mean you!" he hollered toward the kitchen. Lion-O glanced up at Cheetara, whose face was flushed with pink from the warmth of the room. The chill had left them, and her fur was glossy and smooth.

Somehow, this felt nicer than the fancy gala. The clink of plates and the trills of berbils were pleasantly distracting, and this tiny building was warmer than the arching beauty of the party. And Cheetara was here, happy. As was he.

"I think you've got an admirer, Cheetara," Lion-O said when Bebo returned to the table, rounding the counter in an excited whirl. She met his gaze and her nose wrinkled in a laugh as Bebo rolled around before hugging her calf.

Bella – who had trotted up with a little plate of sugar cookies in the shape of hearts, true to her word – swiveled her head to look at Lion-O before facing Cheetara again and saying frankly, "Bella think Cheetara has _two_."

* * *

><p>"We've got to take the kittens there sometime. They would love Bebo. Not to mention those cookies were to die for." Cheetara hugged her jacket closer and waited for the traffic signal to change before stepping off the curb. "I can pay my half-"<p>

"No way. _I_ paid for dinner. You're not taking my satisfaction." Lion-O glanced up and exhaled. His breath misted in front of his face. "Wow, it's freezing out here."

"You're telling me. It's getting foggy." It was muzzy and pale as they got stepped off the street. "I think…yeah, I know where we are. We can walk to the clinic from here."

The streets were shocking busy for it being so late; while it was not odd to see a few people out at this hour, there were cars and figures crossing the roads and striding by, giving them glances before fading into the fog. Cheetara looked up once. "It's supposed to snow again tomorrow. Not that you can tell, the fog's too thick."

Lion-O squinted upwards before looking forward again, trying not to let the fact that their fingers were linked turn him into a babbling idiot. "Yeah. That's one thing I miss about Pantherle," he admitted. She looked at him in curiosity. "Well, see, Pantherle's a fair size but it's really only a few miles from the country. So if you drive half an hour you can get to land where there are no street lamps, you can see the stars really well."

"Really?" Cheetara paused at another walkway, eying the orange, 'Don't Walk' light with distaste. "I've never seen many stars. Lived in a city all my life. Ooh," she muttered, tightening her arms. "If I hated the cold any more I'd be a lizard. Call me an ectotherm."

Lion-O – aware that it was high on the list of cheesy yet thoughtful things a guy could do for a girl – shrugged his jacket off and touched Cheetara's arm. "Here."

She looked at him, shaking her head emphatically. "Uh-uh. You'llfreeze. Your shirt is thin."

"Well, so's your dress. And you don't have any sleeves under that flimsy jacket. My fur's thicker anyway." Surprising himself with his own forwardness, Lion-O gently took her wrist – very gently, and she let him – and slid the corresponding sleeve over her arm, and then the other. Cheetara sighed and huddled into the jacket, burying her chin in the collar.

She then stepped closer to him and muttered, "If you get pneumonia, I'm consigning you to stay at the clinic until you're well. Trust me, being confined to a sickbed with _me _looking after you while I'm on a guilt trip would be very unpleasant." He noticed her shivers were slowly lessening, although the initial warmth made the tremors worse for a few moments as she adjusted.

"I'll take my chances. Besides, when I get sick I sleep for two days and then I'm over it. Literally; one time I got the chicken pox and I fell asleep Monday morning and woke up Wednesday night, bumps gone. Dad said he woke me up to make me drink broth and ginger ale and stuff, but I don't remember it at all."

"Lucky you. The clinic's only a couple blocks away, we can thaw there." She took Lion-O's paw again, tugging at him as the fabric of his jacket rubbed pleasantly against his arm. "Come on, I don't like guilt trips."

Keeping up with a cheetah that didn't like the cold was an interesting thing as they crossed empty streets and trailed under the street lamps and Christmas lights. The night air was almost deliciously harsh, ripping at his lungs as they darted down the sidewalks and streets. Strands of Cheetara's mane were coming loose from the knot and he watched the silky gold gleam under the muzzy light.

Then the clinic was in sight and Cheetara reached into her handbag for the key.

In the brisk air he tried not to shiver, shuffling his feet against the pavement as Cheetara quietly turned the key and ushered him inside. Just in time; small flakes, blown from the buildings and the high, cold clouds scattered across the glass pane, falling and lighting against their faces and fur before he shut the door as she nimbly slipped in behind him.

Lion-O sighed, feeling the slivers of ice melt on him as the air warmed again. "Wow, it's nice in here." He shuddered, rubbing his arms. "Ever notice you shiver a ton right before you warm up?"

"I told you to keep your jacket." He made a face at her in spite of the darkness of the room; the lights had been turned off, save for the one in the hall, but it was enough to see each other in flashes of color and silhouettes.

"I'd rather be the cold one. Thicker fur, remember?" Cheetara set her handbag down on the front desk, glancing around the unlit room. "I guess Jaga and the kittens must be asleep."

"Probably the kittens, yeah. Jaga usually waits up if I go out." She spoke in undertone, and undid the front of his jacket, eying him. Lion-O tried to make his body stop shaking, but he could only smile sheepishly at her, hoping she couldn't see him quake too much in the dim light. "Oh, here. You really _are _going to get pneumonia." Cheetara suddenly drew close and Lion-O's mind went blank for just a second before he realized she was just huddling beside him to help him thaw. But when she put her paws on his face and winced, Lion-O blinked. "You're like ice!"

"I'm fine, really. Just give me a minute and I'll be back to normal." Perhaps. Her fingers were only marginally warmer than his face, and Lion-O – in a move that surprised even himself – took her by the wrists and breathed on her fingers. "Your paws are cold," he explained, peeping up at her over the tips of her claws, letting the backs of her fingers rest against his neck, warmer than his paws. Cheetara's eyes weighed on their linked fingers for a moment before she lifted them to meet his gaze. Suddenly feeling as if he'd done something taboo, Lion-O loosened his hold and mumbled, "Sorry, I was just-"

She was looking at him differently as he watched the snow in her mane melt, slower than the snow in her fur. "It's fine. Here," she said, taking his paws in hers and shifting so they were standing even closer and she could fold the edges of his jacket around his arms and part of his back. He blinked; her perfume was heady again, though diluted by the previous cold winds. He was so close to her face that he noticed once more that there was glitter in her eye shadow. Even in the dark.

It took every ounce of courage he had, but he wound his arms around her waist as she'd intended, careful not to let his paws drift by accident. The last thing he wanted to do was offend her. Her back was warm, and even though his paws were terribly cold she didn't nudge him. He thought he saw her shiver, but before he could move she fixed him with a deadly glare. "If you get frostbite, I'm doing the amputation."

It was a joke, but he understood that he was not to move his paws. It was a scary, surreal feeling, the tips of his fingers resting in her smooth fur where it met the fabric of the dress, just below her shoulder blades.

"I…I had fun. Other than Mumm-Ra, it was a nice evening." The quiet minute was slow, warming marginally as their fur softened and lay down again.

"Me too," she said gently. "Well, only _other_ thing I didn't like is this bun. Too tight." It was hard to tell if she was being sarcastic or not. When she took the clip out and her mane tumbled back to its full length, it gleamed like gold in what little light there was. She shook her head a little to loosen it. "Probably would have been warmer this way. The things we women put up with to look good."

Lion-O saw the smooth streams of light from the hall buried in it. Her mane appeared soft and tousled, and his lips were dry. "It looked nice. But you're beautiful either way."

…Oh whiskers, he said that out loud.

Lion-O felt a knot form in his vocal cords, and knew that if his face hadn't already been red beneath his fur from the rush of blood after the chill, it would have gone scarlet. From under her lashes she eyed him, and he hoped she couldn't feel his paws shaking. She cupped the side of his face in one paw, and he half shut his eyes when she kissed his cheek, breath a sharp intake.

"That was very sweet." Neither made a move, bound by silent stillness and the feeling of being warm inside, safe from the snow. He got the sudden, wild idea that she was waiting for something. Lion-O had nearly depleted his reserves of courage; could he, possibly…kiss her? On the mouth? Would she get mad? Would she apologize and say this was just a friendly thing, and she hadn't meant to lead him on? Would it be possible for her to be interpreting this as something _friends_ did?

Nothing could possibly hurt him worse than that. After the way the evening had felt, how it had felt to hold paws and for her to be so close to him, and to look at him with pride in her eyes?

The way it felt for her palm to rest against his face, and her other paw to rest on his shoulder, still pinning the jacket around them both for warmth…?

The whiteness of her face was almost ghostly in the light of the hallway, one eye seeming to glow against the shadow. The snow fell outside, but this quiet dark was near and warm and somehow safe. And with all the new awkwardness of a teenage boy going in for his first kiss, a millimeter a minute, Lion-O tilted his head just a little, and hoped, hoped, _hoped _she'd meet him as he drew close.

The half-second where she didn't terrified him. He almost opened his eyes, sure that she would be moving her head away.

But when her mouth touched his – a cool smoothness that he didn't recognize at first – his heart seemed to jump into his throat and heat his entire body, energizing him and sending tendrils of flame into his blood. Her lips were still cold from the outdoors, and her front pressed gently against his, and he felt her heart against his chest.

It was exhilarating. It wasn't the idealized kiss in the movies, but better; a severe light and strange life, burning in his chest as his paws trembled and he tightened his arms around her. It was shy and scared and real.

Though from her he felt no fear, no shyness. Only a sense of that understanding and even, perhaps, satisfaction.

And when she let her arms wind around his neck he felt a delirious, disbelieving joy. The feeling of thawing was suddenly nonexistent, and the ice fled.

Cheetara was kissing him. This was _real_. He felt her claws rest against the back of his neck – chill, making him shiver – and when their faces finally parted Lion-O felt a little slow, a little dreamy. Her eyes were red under her lashes, and she was looking at him like…like…he didn't know what. Gentle, happy, approving. Their noses touched, just barely brushing, and he shut his eyes, hiding the explosion of joy in his chest and throat and spirit. And before he could say anything, he felt her lips brush his again, completely of her own volition.

_She_ kissed _him_. He felt so clumsy reciprocating but his delight washed the bewilderment away like hot water melting snow. One of her paws slid a few inches from the back of his neck to the base of his head, tilting his face up and drawing him in closer, and he no longer cared about being a couple inches taller, if the reward was that feeling of her fingers in his mane.

When their lips parted again, he half-laughed when he breathed out, jubilant. Somehow he felt her smile, even though their foreheads were touching and he'd shut his eyes when her bangs brushed against his face.

"Yuck!" Their heads turned at the exact same moment, Lion-O instinctively tightening his grip around her waist. The twins were in the lit hall, both wearing footie pajamas and holding steaming mugs, and Jaga was standing just beyond them, watching with a twinkle in his eye, dressed in his plaid pajama set. Kit was watching with a faraway, hooded expression, though it vanished when they looked at her. It was Kat who had spoken, and Kit whirled to face him, and grabbed his ear. Jaga quickly took the mugs from them before warm milk could be splattered on the floor.

"You dingaling! It was _so_ romantic and you just ruined it!" Jaga and the couple stared as they squabbled for about ten seconds until Kit trapped her brother in a headlock and looked up to beam at Lion-O and Cheetara. "You two just ignore us."

Cheetara simply glanced up at Jaga. "Hello."

He lifted one mug in greeting. "We were just going to bed. Don't stay there too long; Lion-O, you have class tomorrow." With that he shepherded the kids away, toward their room, Kat sputtering as his sister released his neck. Kit kept glancing back, looking a little star struck. Lion-O felt heat creeping up his face and he looked at Cheetara.

"I guess they _were _expecting us."

"Definitely. Sorry about that," she said, eyes suddenly dipping. She grinned and relinquished her hold on him to fish in her handbag. "You've got some lipstick on your mouth." He flushed, feeling the makeup as he touched his lips, letting go of her reluctantly. "Don't worry, I've got some clean hankies."

The world had come back, and he realized it was not nearly so warm without her arms around him, though the heat of the building was in fact hotter than her hands had been. Cheetara dabbed the handkerchief against his mouth, running one finger over his lower lip when she finished. "No offense, but rose isn't a good color on you." Lion-O grinned.

"No, it's more your style." She took off his jacket and handed it to him. Her fur was smooth again, and her fingers were not so clammy as before.

"You could stay here, if you want. It's really late, and we've got the sofa…" she began, leaning around the counter to see the clock on the desk. "Yow, midnight. I know there's a bus, but-"

Lion-O shook his head, stepping toward the door reluctantly. "It's fine. I've really got to get home and check on Snarf anyway. He wanted me to get back before two. And I'm not sleepwalking tonight. There are tons of people out because of the party." The long black dress drifted elegantly when she stepped toward the door with him to see him out, and he swallowed before adding, "Maybe we could…do this again?"

Lion-O didn't know what else to say, how else to ask, "Are we dating?" without it sounding stupid. Or rather, without sounding _as _stupid.

Cheetara smiled at him, and the feeling of being an idiot faded. "I'd like that a lot." The words broke over him like a wave. "Maybe after your exams this week we can catch a movie or something."

It was cold when he opened the door and let a gust of wintry air in, and she shuddered once, putting a paw gently on his arm. Pausing for just a moment, he took said paw and lifted it to plant a small kiss on it. "Goodnight."

The way she smiled at him – approving, almost a bit shy, something he'd never associated with Cheetara – made his stomach twist happily. Lion-O darted out the door and lifted a paw in farewell as he began to move away and she slowly left his line of vision. He slid his jacket on.

It was still warm. It smelled like her.

Lion-O honestly couldn't remember how he got to his dorm that night. It seemed as if one minute he'd been standing out there, reeling from the kiss and the fact that she felt something for him, full of energy and the bizarre delight of a man truly in love – _requited _love, or at least the very beginning of it – for the first time. Then, he felt out of breath and tired from some kind of adrenaline, frost buried in his mane and fur as if he'd run home, an insane happiness in his fingertips and chest, heart swelled full like a sunrise in the summer.

Apparently he hadn't had the patience to wait for the bus.

If he had run all the way home, he'd run ten city blocks at one in the morning at thirty degrees Fahrenheit. He climbed the stairs within the building, ignoring the stale smell of too-thin walls and reached his door, unlocking it and closing the door after himself. With that – and without bothering to take off his suit jacket, relishing the sensation of being wrapped in her scent – he fell back onto his bed, shivering a little from the cold and the burst of light inside him.

He stayed that way for a minute, listening as Snarf stirred and began batting at his paw, dangling from the side of his bed. Frost melted on him, trickling slowly. "Snar-snarf?" The feeling hadn't faded, and he remembered something Claudus had once said to him.

"When you first fall in love, the rush makes everything seem brighter and food just doesn't matter. Nor do hobbies or basically anything else. If you're head over heels, you might want to sing at random intervals. I did that when I left after a second date with your mother. I just wish I hadn't done it in public."

"Snar-snarf?" This time Lion-O felt Snarf batting at his chin, and he lifted his head to meet the green eyes. The question had been, "What happened?" Lion-O took off his bowtie, putting it aside.

"…It was great. Cheetara looked so beautiful I nearly freaked out. Mumm-Ra's a total weirdo, Cheetara and I ditched the gala, and then we went to dinner. And then we went back to the clinic."

"Snaaarf?" Lion-O grinned and Snarf clambered onto his chest and settled there, looking smug.

"…We kissed. I sort of kissed her, and then she kissed me back." Snarf squealed, tail swaying, and rolled onto his side for a celebratory tummy rub. Lion-O indulged him, staring at the ceiling and letting the evening rush through his head. It made him want to run a little more, half-crazy with the happiness, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Sorry Snarf. I'm not on anything, honestly. I'm just really happy. Really, really happy. I mean, she likes me. She likes me _back_." Snarf purred as his owner held him, pleased with the joy that had taken hold of Lion-O. And as he warmed and Snarf gradually fell asleep to the pleasure of a tummy massage, he too fell asleep, still wrapped in his suit jacket.

That night Lion-O dreamed of Cheetara being with him in Pantherle, and showing her all the constellations from the countryside beyond the city. And in the dream their fingers were intertwined, and she fell asleep lying against his chest, and she smelled of flowers.

* * *

><p>The next week was the best of his life. Bar none.<p>

Sure, there were exams coming up and he felt uneasy about turning in his blueprints to Professor Panthro on Monday, but all those things seemed kind of hazy as he tried to focus. It was hard; his comics were uninteresting, his textbooks were dull, and one evening he opened a copy of _The Great Gatsby _just to stare vaguely at the page, realizing he'd been reading Nick's statement that he was "one of the few honest men he knew" or something for the past half hour(3) . Snarf had to pester him to remember to eat, as food just didn't really register as important to him anymore. He fed Snarf, but the creature nudged and meowed until he too ate something.

He was on cloud nine, higher than he'd ever been. It was like everything in those goofy, cheesy movies, only he didn't have a soundtrack of goofy, cheesy love songs following him around.

Although he did find himself humming along to 'As Long As You Love Me' when the weirdo upstairs started singing it. For the first time ever, he understood the giddy exhilaration of being in love, and being loved.

Cheetara was on his mind almost constantly. Either at the back of his thoughts when he absolutely forced himself to focus, or right at the front when he went to bed and stared at the ceiling, stroking Snarf.

Dad had said before that when one first fell in love, it was a very distracting, marvelous experience. And he could say for himself that the statements were true.

Twice over the week he went out with her again. The first time, she called him and wanted meet up at Berbio's with him, as Bebo had begged last time for them to try Candyfruit the next time they visited. Apparently Bebo had worked his way into her heart, and when the little creature bounced at her, she caught him and grinned when he asked, "Nice Lion-O and pretty Cheetara come back to try Candyfruit?"

Bella – upon seeing that Cheetara and Lion-O held paws – let out a happy, trilling call. "Bella knew! Bella always know. Did Lion-O give Cheetara jacket other night in snow?"

Remembering the corny gesture, Lion-O scratched the back of his neck. "Well…yeah, actually." She had nodded in triumph.

"Bella bring out couple Candyfruit dish. On house. Merry Christmas!"

She would accept no payment from either of them, telling them that, "Young Christmas love is payment; remind me of Bill and me." The dish had been strange and sweet, very sugary. While they both liked it and told her so, Cheetara whispered to him that to see Kat and Kit after eating something so sweet would be terrifying. He privately agreed. They both told the berbils honestly that they liked it, thanking them, and Bebo just about went to pieces.

"You come back soon, please! Bebo like you very much!"

The second time they "went out" was a few days later. He called her this time, and they went for a walk through a part of the city that had decorated for Christmas, observing Christmas lights and the way the red and gold and green lights reflected against the damp pavement, glittering with melted snow and salt. After the bizarre idols and creepiness of Mumm-Ra's gala, it was nice to just wander outside the churches and other buildings to see the sweetness of old-fashioned Christmas decorations. Walking beside her and talking to her thrilled him, and when she reached out and held his paw so casually – as if they'd done this a thousand times and she was completely comfortable with him – made him feel serene and happy. Once she paused in front of an elaborate Nativity scene and glanced at him, searching his face. "You okay? You're not talking very much."

"Yeah. I'm just happy. With you." Adding the last part made him avert his gaze a bit. "I just…I don't know, I feel like me talking right now would just be…overkill. I mean, I want to talk to you, don't get me wrong. And I love listening to you when you talk, I really do. It's just right now, I'm content to just _be. _You know?" Lion-O had fumbled a bit with his words, but she only smiled at him and wrapped an arm around his waist, side against his.

"You're a bit of a romantic. You know that?" He inhaled the scent of her mane and memorized the way it felt to have her paw rest against his hip so warmly. And he put an arm around her shoulders, and noticed for the first time that he _was_ actually getting a little taller. He used to be at about eye level with her mouth, but now it was only a couple inches to meet her eyes. Lion-O just gazed at the Nativity scene with her for a moment, listening to the sound of _Handel's Messiah_ pour softly from the speakers.

"I think I sound silly usually." She shook her head.

"If you were anyone else, maybe. But you don't sound silly. Because I know you mean it. That's the interesting thing." Cheetara kissed his cheek and he smiled, pleasantly surprised. "I've dated some guys before where you could tell they didn't mean one word they said, if you really listened. Not that I knew that at the time." At Lion-O's sudden glanced she said, "Oh, I had a thing for the worst kind of boys sophomore year in high school. I guess every girl goes through that phase. This guy and I went to dinner, and he talked nice, but when I didn't want to kiss him goodnight he accused me of being a prude. Got a little grabby, actually."

She paused, and Lion-O realized he was growling and the fur along the back of his neck was standing on end. Yeah, that looked really secure and normal. "Sorry. That…I mean…"

Cheetara smiled. "It was his bad judgment to try anything right outside the clinic. Jaga was waiting in the lobby for me to get home, and saw him try to make a pass." She lifted her free paw to her mouth to stifle her laughter. "He grabbed the boy by the ear and told me to get a ladle. He spanked him with it, right in front of me. Told him that if he didn't learn how to treat ladies he'd teach him the meaning of discipline. Needless to say, he didn't call back, and I wasn't interested in communicating either."

Gotta love Jaga. Lion-O felt a deep surge of affection for the old jaguar, trying not to laugh so loud that he attracted attention. "Huh. He didn't think I was going to do anything like that. At least, that's what he told me when we were waiting for you." Her eyes met his.

"No offense, Lion-O, but you're about as 'bad-boy' as Snarf." He flushed, but she grinned and swung their linked arms playfully. "I don't worry about you ever trying something like that. Never have, never will."

He sighed and appreciated the way her fingers rested affectionately against his side once more, listening as the, _"He reigneth, forever! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!" _rang out gently. The tenderness of the Nativity scene warmed him, as did the cat beside him. "I'm glad. I…I could never do anything like that to you. You mean too much to me, and it's not right that other people do it to each other."

She didn't reply immediately, except in the way she let her cheek rest on his shoulder. It was enough, and filled his heart. "It's quite interesting to hear things like that. Kind of rare."

"It's better than a lame pickup line, right? Like oh, I don't know…asking if it hurt when you fell out of heaven." She smirked.

"Much."

The walk was pleasant, full of quiet talk and a whole sort of feeling. Just like it had when they were just friends, but now it was warmer, and Lion-O felt more at ease. Before he'd been trying so hard to hide how much he liked her, and now he didn't have to. So he could speak more easily, talk to her, and be completely honest. And it was a relief.

Lion-O took her home and somewhat shyly kissed her goodnight. It was as nerve wracking as their first kiss, but just as pleasant in its own way as their fingers linked. And his happiness was sure and steady, and for the first time in his life he just felt…like enough. Like school was fine, the city was fine, and his personal life was more than fine. And with Christmas only a couple weeks away, Lion-O was happy.

Happier than he'd ever been.

* * *

><p>"I need to see you at my desk, Mr. Rey."<p>

Lion-O jerked his head up. He'd gotten to sleep at four in the morning, so it was understandably difficult to keep himself awake. It was a good thing this had just been a class day to receive grades and write a few notes about common errors; his head was so full of Cheetara and what economic formulas he'd managed to memorize that he couldn't remember dressing this morning. That wasn't new. The other students were already milling around him, shuffling with their packs and purses. Most of them had their final constructions and experiment results in their fingers. Various letters winked at him in red, mostly of the C variety. He got up and simply climbed over the long table that served as a desk for him and five other cats rather than squeeze between anyone.

Lion-O stood in front of the mahogany desk, waiting and twisting his fingers around his lecture notes. He set them aside to look at the packet he'd turned in nearly a week prior.

"Nice job, Mr. Rey." Panthro slid the pages toward him, watching his face presumably for his reaction, and Lion-O's eyes widened.

"Ninety-five?" he asked softly. An _A_. Professor Panthro had really given _him _an _A_.

"Yeah. Pretty impressive for a rookie. Your ideas about Thundrillium are especially interesting, as I've mentioned before." The professor paused, glancing over the notes Lion-O had set aside in front of him. His face was suddenly exasperated and amused. "Oh dear. The lethal sickness has infected you."

He blinked. "What?"

"'My love is like a fever, longing still, for that which longer nurseth the disease,'" Panthro intoned, gazing at him from under lifted brows(4). Lion-O's jaw dropped a little.

"How did you-?"

"I don't recall seeing you doodle 'Cheetara' on your notes from the lectures before this," he said wryly, low enough that the few still trailing out the door couldn't hear. Lion-O's ears went scarlet as his hair when he realized he had intermittently been scribbling her name in the margins of his paper. "Oh well. You've gotten an A in the class, so I suppose I won't reprimand you for basically ignoring this lecture. Teenagers and their hormones…"

Lion-O's fingers felt numb, and his head – already feeling like it was going to float away from tiredness and a slightly more manageable ecstasy – nearly overloaded. "A-An A? Really?"

"This class is weighted so this final project counts for forty percent of the grade. When it's all calculated out, you get a ninety-two percent, as our final days together are simply going over the issues on the other gadgets. In fact…" he continued slowly, "I would like to see a finished product from this. I know you list the experiment as _purely_ theoretical, but I'd like to see if I can help finish the design. We wouldn't be able to power it with Thundrillium, obviously, therefore it wouldn't actually be able to hover, but I think you've got the beginnings of a really intriguing idea. If you're interested."

Could the week get any better? If anybody could figure this thing out, it was the guy who had worked with his dad's best technological designers. Lion-O nodded, speechless. "All right. Are you staying for part of Christmas Break?" He nodded again, feeling like a bobble head. "Keep those plans, and bring any extra notes you may have. I'll e-mail you when I'm available, and we'll figure it out." Panthro got up, and it struck Lion-O that he looked…friendly. "Have a good Christmas. Go call that Cheetara you're so crazy about and tell her the news." With that and a hearty smack on the back, the professor left, carrying his file folders.

Lion-O took Panthro's advice; he called the vet clinic once he got back to his dorm and shared the news with Snarf, who looked entirely too pleased for Lion-O to think he didn't understand most of his excited, rapid babble. Jaga and Cheetara had two phone numbers – the personal, household phone for social calls, and the official number for the clinic. It was the first he called.

The phone clicked. "Clera residence and Tretierra Veterinary Clinic. May I ask who's calling?"

He gave the phone a look. "Kit?"

"Lion-O! Hi! Cheetara's putting files away – I'll get her right now!"

"Wait, don't bother her if she's-"

There was a clatter of the phone being cast aside in a hurry. "Cheetara! Cheetara! Your _boyfriend's_ on the phone!" she yelled, voice shrinking as she grew further from it. Snarf squealed in amusement, and Lion-O gave him a very slight swat on the behind. Muffled voices on the other end gradually became clearer, and he shut his eyes and buried his face in one paw in humiliation when he heard, "Are you guys gonna get married? Because I'd make _such _a good Auntie when you have a baby!"

"Kit, why don't you go finish cleaning your room? Kat's been helping with the laundry." He heard a grumble and the flouncing away of tiny feet. "Hey."

"Hi. Um…Kit's getting kind of ahead of herself, isn't she?" Cheetara laughed, and he felt the embarrassment leaving him, fur laying flat again when he relaxed.

"She's just excited. She told me she's been 'waiting forever for us to get together.' What's up?"

Snarf was looking smug, and Lion-O rolled him over, stuffing him gently under the blankets. "I aced Professor Panthro's class. He told me today. And get this; he wants to help me with the blueprints on the hover board idea. My second full semester is almost done, and I've scraped all A's."

"That's great! I knew you could do it. And you impressed Panthro? Jaga says that's not easy to do." He basked in the praise, feeling like a very young kid being congratulated for the first time. Everything was new with her. "Do you have work today?"

"No, not for another two days. Why?"

"Jaga says he's got good news about the clinic, and he's going to tell us about it over dinner tonight. Why don't you come over?"

Snarf was protesting being pinned, smacking his tail against the blankets. Lion-O absently released him, ignoring the dirty look the pet gave him. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to impose."

"Come on, you can't live on instant noodles and cafeteria food forever. And Kit has been begging me to invite you over all morning; she wants to see us hold paws since we're an 'official couple' as she puts it." The warmth in her voice made that happy, strange heat in his core grow, and he felt out of breath again.

"Okay. You want me to bring anything? I'm no chef, but the microwave can be a wonder machine if you've learned how to use it."

"Just yourself. No microwave food allowed. See you in a little bit."

He heard a faint shriek of happiness from Kit and grinned into his fingers. "Okay. Be there soon." Lion-O just barely managed to bite his tongue to keep from adding, "I love you." Take it slow. He didn't want to creep her out. "Oh, hey. Can I bring Snarf? He's getting jealous of you."

"Sure. He can entertain the kittens." With a brief, "Bye," and what might have been the sound of a kiss she was gone. Lion-O looked at Snarf, who cocked his head.

"Hey. Want to go see Jaga and Cheetara and the kids?"

"Snarf."

"Good. I'll be ready in a minute." There was one more call he had to make, and it had occurred to him several times that he ought to, but he could quite bring himself to it. Now, however, Lion-O looked at his phone and tapped his knee uneasily. Snarf was watching curiously, and Lion-O sighed and leaned back on his bed for a second. He looked through his small list of contacts and spotted the name he was looking for. Hesitating, Lion-O glanced at Snarf once more, who simply crawled onto his stomach as if to give him moral support. "Well, Dad's gotta know." It would be pretty crummy of him not to inform his own dad he was truly dating for the first time _ever_.

The phone rang. Lion-O fidgeted. He and Dad disagreed on some things, and the idea of Lion-O dating any other breed of cat was high among them. Claudus thought all cats were equal, but he didn't like the idea of Lion-O ever marrying and mating with anything other than a lioness. Hybrid cubs would make the relations foam at the mouth.

Cheetara's words to him at the gala came back to him. She'd said she was proud of him, and Lion-O let the memory roll around inside him like a star. He had only been trying to do what was right, but he would have been lying if he'd said that approval – _her _approval – hadn't meant something very wonderful to him.

He wanted Dad to approve. Be a little bit surprised, a bit disconcerted. But…well, perhaps after some time, if he met her, he might come around. But if he didn't, that would just have to be okay. Cheetara was worth that and anything else. And that wasn't just infatuation and the giddiness of being really in love talking; it was more than that. Much more.

Lion-O listened as his Dad's voice mail answered him, and sighed with relief. Then he chewed on his lip; should he leave a message, or wait until he could talk to Dad? What should he say?

_Beep._

"Hi Dad," he began, stumbling over the words, and Snarf rested his chin on Lion-O's chest. "Uh, I just wanted to call, see how you were. Did you hear that Mumm-Ra Ammit was hosting a party in Tretierra at Ome N.? Well I went and finally caught a glimpse of him. I see what you meant. I've never met anyone quite like him. He told me he wanted to enter into a deal with Thunder Enterprises too. And I just said that decision didn't rest with me. I don't think he's going to give up though." He shifted uncomfortably. "But, uh, there's another reason I called. See, I didn't go to the event alone."

Lion-O suddenly – for some reason – thought of his mom. She would've liked Cheetara, he knew it. Somehow. The thought made him bold and suddenly calmed him.

"I…I know this sounds silly, but…I'm in love. You remember me talking about Cheetara Clera? Um…I wasn't exactly telling the truth when I said we were friends. I mean, we were just friends then, but I didn't want to _be_ just friends. Anyway, we went to the event together and had dinner afterwards. It was a lot of fun, and…I don't know, I want you to meet her later. I mean, I know she's not a lioness, but I still think you'd like her. I'm crazy about her, and she likes me back."

He balked then, not sure what to say. "Well…I'll talk to you later, Dad. I just wanted to tell you what was going on, and that I'd seen Mumm-Ra. Love you."

Snarf meowed when he shut his phone, ending the call. "What do you think?"

"Snarf-snarf-snarf."

"That makes one of us an optimist."

* * *

><p>Kit answered the door before he even got to knock, nudging aside the 'Closed' sign as she undid the lock. With complete seriousness, she said, "I think a lion cub would look really good with cheetah spots." Lion-O shook his head and let Snarf down, and the chubby beast scrambled past Kit's feet in delight.<p>

"Kit, we only started really dating a couple of weeks ago. It takes time to figure out if somebody is the person you're going to marry and…uh…have cubs with."

He was glad that she did not, in curiosity, start asking questions about the procreation process. He'd had a bizarre terror that the kittens would eventually ask him about it, and if Jaga weren't around he didn't know what he would say. The story of the Almoretta bird bringing babies had worked on him until he was twelve, but the kittens were a lot savvier than he had been. He'd been clueless when Claudus had finally stopped dragging his feet and explained the actual process.

That had been a very awkward day.

Kit rolled her eyes. "Cheetara said the same thing. Well, all I know is, when you guys get married and have cubs, _I'm _their Auntie. Okay?"

"…Sure," he said finally, looking past her to see Cheetara heading into the lobby. The clinic had been closed, so she'd swapped out of her ordinary work clothes into a comfortable set of jeans and a white blouse. Considering he had simply put on his most reasonable jeans and a clean sweater, he was relieved.

"Kit, are you finished with your worksheets? I told you that you needed to do the last five problems before you could play." Kit gave both of them mischievous looks before darting back into the corridor, toward the kitchen. Lion-O smiled at her, feeling his heart hammer when she stepped close to him and gave him a slight kiss that he returned. "Congratulations on your grade."

"Thanks. I nearly freaked when he told me about it." Was he always going to be this way around her? Breathless and a little shy? Even when they kissed – and she let her claws brush over his arm affectionately – he felt a little jolt of something like electricity in his ribs.

She let their fingers intertwine, gently pulling him. "Come on, you can help me dice some vegetables. Kat wanted to help, but I'm scared he'll cut his fingers off."

Kit squealed openly at the sight of them holding paws, marking her paper by accident(5). Kat made a face as he sat at the kitchen table, stirring a bowl of something. "Girls are weird. Why are you going all mushy, Lion-O?"

"You'll understand when you're older Kat. You'll find a girl you don't mind being 'mushy' with," Jaga said sagely. Kat assumed a stark look of horror at the second statement, and Kit stuck out her tongue at him. Cheetara glanced into the bowl Kat held and then turned to the stove to see what was boiling there. Somewhere in the room, a radio was playing.

"Okay, chicken stew with pasta and a salad on the side. Lion-O, can you dice the carrots? This broth needs work." He nodded obediently, watching her drift to the stove. Against the wood board he carefully took up the knife and began slicing slowly. Cheetara sniffed the broth quietly, adding spices and the occasional spoon of something or other. It smelled of pepper, and he looked over the other ingredients sitting on the counter.

"Snarf." Jaga's voice was quick, and Lion-O groaned – the pet had gone for some of the lettuce on the table, and managed to grab a few leaves before hurrying away, weaving between the chair legs. "Cheetara, whup him. He's spoiled rotten."

"Sorry about that," Lion-O said, giving the beast a look. Snarf merely chewed at the lettuce, holding it in his little paws as he gnawed on it. Sitting on his chubby haunches, he was out of the way at least.

"I leave all discipline to his owner." Lion-O nudged Snarf with his foot, and Snarf mock-cried, putting a paw to his forehead, wailing. "There, I suppose that's proper chastisement." Lion-O shrugged and continued slicing the carrots. He went slowly, unconfident in his knife skills, and Snarf continued eating the lettuce he had taken.

"_…Long lay the world in sin and error pining, 'til He appeared, and the soul felt its worth…_"

The radio crackled a little, but before Lion-O could see where it was, Cheetara had gotten to it to adjust the antennae. "We need to get a new radio, Jaga. This one's getting old." It was indeed, a black box with large knobs as opposed to buttons. The static cleared marginally as she fiddled with it. "Correction; this one's _been_ old. It's interfering with my Christmas carol intake, and that's not good."

"I know. But it still works. And you know how much of a packrat I can be." Jaga patted the box fondly as she continued trying to get a clear sound. Lion-O looked at it, cutting the last carrot before putting the knife down.

"Can I mess with it? I'm no engineer, but maybe I can…" he trailed off, examining the box and setting it on the table. "Wow, this thing's ancient."

"I rest my case." Jaga mumbled something about kids and their fancy modern era machinery, which made the kittens snicker. "Oh come on, Jaga. Let me get you a new radio for Christmas. This one's going to croak any minute now."

"Cheetara, I've told you before; I will get a new radio myself." Lion-O smiled when the old cat gruffly watched him try to adjust the antennae again. For a moment there was just the watery sound of static. Then, he heard the swell of music, shifted the antennae back, and 'O Holy Night' was just about to finish its last chorus. "Or I'll just have Lion-O come over whenever I want to use this one."

Pleased with himself, Lion-O took his paws slowly away from the radio and went to rinse them off before handling any more ingredients.

Kat eyed the radio. "Don't get me wrong, I like Christmas music. But I've heard so much it's gonna make me go crazy. I wanna see if there's anything else on." As he spoke, reaching for the dial, the choir faded out and something like a saxophone began to roll.

"Freeze." Cheetara cocked her head. "Oh, I love this song. Turn it up a little." Kat groaned before complying, face planted against the table.

"Not only a Christmas-y song, but a _love _song? You're killing me!" Jaga patted Kat's back.

"Again, wait a few years. You'll find there'll come a time where you might actually like love songs." Kat shook his head against the table as Kit swished her tail in time.

"_I really can't stay – baby it's cold outside._" Cheetara skirted around Jaga to get to the stove. "'I've got to go away,'" she mused, not quite singing – more of a low hum. She took the carrots Lion-O had finished and slid them into the broth. She then nudged him so he was closer to the sink, away from the stove. "Can you get me the noodles from the strainer? The chicken's almost done baking."

He obeyed, and upon completion of this simple task, Cheetara took the bowl and paused to smooth a tuft of fur on his face. "Thanks. Your fur's a little scruffy over here."

"Ew…" Kat mumbled. Kit – watching dreamily from the chair opposite him at the table – gave him a small kick to the knee without even batting an eye. "Ow. Kit, you're such a weirdo."

Lion-O grinned. "I wonder how cheesy we can get, just to exasperate Kat more." Snarf cackled maniacally from below the table as he finished the lettuce, and Cheetara put an index finger to her lip in mock consideration.

"I don't know. I should've taken up Bella on that mistletoe offer."

"Believe me Kat, these two are quite tame. At least they've not resorted to calling each other pet names." Jaga made a face. "Nothing quite like waiting at the bus stop when a fifteen-year-old and his girlfriend are calling each other 'Baby' and 'Pookie.'"

Kat groaned. "If you two start doing that, I'm gonna toss my cookies."

"Don't worry, I don't think Cheetara would appreciate me calling her 'baby,'" Lion-O said, trying the name. She cringed.

"Back at you, 'Pookie.'" He tried not to laugh. "No 'baby.' And I'm no fan of 'babe,' 'shawty,' or 'darling,' either."

"'Honey' on its own isn't too bad, but I've always thought it was more for married couples. Or 'dear,' it's not so saccharine. And if I ever call you 'shawty,' please kick me in the gut(6). I'll deserve it."

"'Dear' might be permissible, depending on the situation." Cheetara let Lion-O open the oven for her, putting on one of the gloves to take out the baking dish.

"I've always felt 'dear' was a rather lovely term. I would've used it if I ever got hitched." Jaga said this absently, opening the cutlery drawer to stab the chicken. "Oh, perfect. Well played poultry, well played."

"_I wish I knew how to break this spell._" Cheetara moved to let Jaga work on combining the ingredients. Lion-O listened to her hum, watching her shift to the sound. The careful motions were not quite a dance, but not simply steps either. Cheetara glanced at him, noticing his gaze. "Can I help you, Mr. Rey?"

She extended her arms and took one of his paws. With a swift turn of her foot she spun a bit so their fingers linked and lifted to eye level, as if they were about to start an old dance out of an eighteenth century court. Lion-O looked at their fingers and then at her again.

"Ms. Clera, it occurs to me that we never finished dancing last week. I was wondering if perhaps you might want to remedy that." His own boldness surprised him, as did the fact that he made the request. In her kitchen. Standing in front of other people.

Kat theatrically ducked his head under the table to pretend to barf. Kit turned up the radio a little, looking ecstatic. Snarf slyly sat under her chair to watch, and Jaga just smiled when Cheetara accepted Lion-O's paw. "Are you sure? As I recall, you were rather nervous about dancing in front of others."

Lion-O – again surprising himself – drew her towards himself, and she coyly turned so that her back pressed lightly against his front. "Well, I owe you a dance. You like this song, don't you? Besides, I've decided that unless we make Kat puke, we're just not being mushy enough."

She laughed. "How romantic." Jaga turned to the stove, eying them quietly as Cheetara put one paw on Lion-O's shoulder and held the other. There was enough room by the table that they could move, and Lion-O grinned when Kit hauled Snarf out from under her chair in order to cuddle him and start swaying in her seat. Snarf was too busy snickering at his owner to protest. "You remember what little I taught you?"

Somehow, this wasn't frightening. Being in their average clothes, in this familiar house, with family watching, made this…nice. Just simple and easy. Much easier than being at the gala. Kit only made it easier as she got up and twirled in place with Snarf, creature swinging gently as she held him beneath the arms.

"Are you guys gonna act like this _all _the _time_?" Kat asked, sounding crestfallen. He'd put his chin in his paw and watched with the air of one in severe discomfort.

"We're just having fun, Kat. Don't worry, Lion-O's not turning into a girl." Cheetara watched Kit spin Snarf and dip him, as if they were doing a tango. "Think we can pull that maneuver off?"

"I'm terrified that I'll drop you. I'm barely coordinated enough to dance in a circle." She cocked an eyebrow.

"I meant for me to dip you." Lion-O looked at Snarf, who held a stylish pose with one paw above his head.

"I might be too heavy for you." Her eyes flickered mischievously, and Lion-O opened his mouth to protest what was coming. He was a little too late, and she wrapped one arm around his waist before pushing him. He fell back and tried to catch himself with his free paw, afraid of thwacking her by accident if he tried to grab the table or counter. But to his surprise, Cheetara halted his descent as his palm brushed the floor, and for a second the dip probably looked rather impressive.

Then he buckled in surprise and landed on his behind, nearly dragging her down. Kat clamped a paw over his mouth but couldn't stop himself from snorting. Even Jaga grinned.

"That was my fault," Lion-O muttered, getting up and rubbing the back of his neck as heat rushed up from his throat to his face.

"A little more warning next time," Cheetara said lightly. "Though I have to say at the risk of sounding like a broken record, you really need to put weight back on." As if to prove her point, she put her hands on his hips as if to measure them. "I'll get you to your target weight if it's the last thing I do."

"Do you work out or something?" He'd always known Cheetara was pretty athletic, but good grief, he wasn't _that _small.

"Jaga taught me a little self defense, and I run for fun. Better be careful, I can beat you up."

"Yeah, and he's teaching me and Kat too. He showed us that the best way to break somebody's grip is to break their thumb or bite at the base of the claw." This cheerful note was accompanied by Kit dumping Snarf into the chair. "Jaga, can't we tell Lion-O the news now? I don't want to wait until dinner."

Cheetara looked at Jaga, standing beside Lion-O and relinquishing her hold on his sides in favor of letting one paw rest on his hip, arm brushing his back. The simplicity of this motion – and the comfortable air she had in doing it – made him feel lightheaded all over again. "Well, if you really want to spoil it, I suppose we can," Jaga said, looking at him. "The big news is that the clinic has been very successful in recent years. It's always been a deluded fantasy of mine to contribute to the quality family businesses of the world, and we're to the point here that we're saving up to open another vet clinic."

"Yeah, we're gonna hire more help and stuff and Cheetara's thinking that once she finishes studying under Jaga, she'll take care of her own clinic! Pretty cool, huh?" Kat said. Lion-O looked at Cheetara, feeling his mouth widen in a grin.

"Your own clinic? Wow…are you thinking about where it's going to be?" Lion-O asked. Cheetara looked at Jaga, who shrugged a shoulder.

"Tretierra's big enough that we could open another in the city in about half a year and there'd be business, but we're looking at different cities too. It's all still fuzzy, and I need at least six more months of training before I can earn my degree to practice without Jaga overseeing. Formalities, you know?" She released Lion-O in order to check the broth again, and Lion-O pondered her words for a minute.

_'Other cities' means she might move away. _He tried to push away the distinctly selfish part of his heart that suddenly twisted at the thought of her leaving Tretierra. She was an adult – trained, intelligent and independent – so it should not have surprised him that she would eventually want to strike out on her own.

Kit seemed to be twisting in her chair. "Jaga, I know that's good news. But we'll miss Cheetara if she leaves…" she said, voice dropping. Lion-O could have kissed her forehead for saying what he was trying not to think.

"We're really considering a Tretierra place, guys. To move very far away would be expensive, and the clinic's not doing _that_ good. Besides, I'd miss you guys too," Cheetara said as she stirred. Lion-O noticed she looked at Jaga, the twins, and then him when she said that. Lion-O struggled with that for a second; she wanted to stay because of them. _He _was a factor. "And Tretierra can use as many family-centered businesses as it can get. We'll figure something out you guys, don't worry."

Kit seemed placated, and Lion-O breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh! Lion-O, I wanted to ask; are you staying for Christmas?" Kat said, looking at him over the table. "Because if you are, we're gonna have a Christmas party. Only it's gonna have games and hot chocolate and good stuff. And presents. Come on, say yes!"

Snarf – at the sound of "hot chocolate" – had meowed his approval. Lion-O wavered before saying, "I…guess so. I'm thinking I'll visit home right after Christmas, so I should be here on the twenty-fifth."

"Are you sure? Christmas is a time for being at home," Cheetara said. "We don't want you to miss out on seeing your dad and brother."

Lion-O felt uncomfortable for a second but simply said, "Well, I'll see them right after Christmas. And this place is like home too."

"Yeah! Hey, do you think Tygra can come visit here again? He's cool." Kat hopped out of his chair and Lion-O felt his stomach suddenly clench, not with nerves but with guilt.

"Maybe."

He'd have to tell Tygra about his relationship with Cheetara. Lion-O had been so terrified of the "date" that he hadn't thought about what he'd have to tell his brother if it actually worked out. And he'd have to do it soon; he could let him find out from Dad, that would be cruel. Almost as cruel as letting him find out by, say…seeing Lion-O and Cheetara kiss. Lion-O shook his head a little. No, he had to tell Tygra.

How would he say that, though? How could he say it without sounding like he was crowing? Because even though he felt bad for it, he could not deny that there was some small, fiery part of him that could not help but feel glad that, for once, he had been chosen instead of his brother. For once, this one person – whom he loved, and loved him back – had picked _him_. Tygra had always been the clever, the brilliant, the charming. Everyone had always preferred him.

Everyone but Cheetara. She liked Tygra, but when she looked at Lion-O…Lion-O felt _loved_. Loved back, romantically, for the first time.

And it felt _good_.

"Your phone's ringing." Cheetara gestured toward his pocket and Lion-O started; his pocket buzzed and he tugged his cell phone out.

The caller ID read "Tygra."

"Sorry. I wasn't expecting a call. I'll just take this in the hallway." Lion-O's heart jumped into his mouth as he hurried out of the kitchen, into the hall, brain suddenly rushing. What if Dad had already called Tygra and mentioned it? Whiskers, he should have waited to call Dad! "Hello?"

"Lion-O." Tygra's voice was low, and sounded strange, as if distorted.

"Hey Tygra. How's it going?" Did his voice crack? Did he sound nervous?

It took an uncommonly long time for Tygra to respond, and Lion-O frowned; his brother was always articulate and efficient, explaining everything quickly. "Is something wrong?"

Something in the background broke. "Lion-O, I need you to come to Pantherle. On the next flight you can get. Don't bother packing, just come home. You can come back up to get your stuff later, we need you down here right now."

Lion-O stared straight ahead at the wall. This had not been what he'd expected. "Tygra, what's wrong? And I can't get a flight this quick; it's two weeks until Christmas. Do you have any idea how hard it would be to find a plane that isn't packed?"

His brother swore, and Lion-O heard him sit down. Murmurs of strangers in the background made it harder to hear. "I'll get you a ticket for a flight tomorrow evening. You _have_ to get down here as fast as you can."

"Why? What's up?"

"Lion-O…Dad. He's…he's dead."

The world went quiet, and Lion-O didn't move, phone against his ear and the smell of chicken and broth simmering was suddenly very far away. "…What?"

"Outside his office building. People in the crowd said that a lizard with a hood up walked past him, turned around and shot him twice. He…he was dead before the paramedics arrived. The guy ran, they're still looking for him. The police just told me, I just got off my flight fifteen minutes ago. I'm with the security team now."

Dad dead. Dad dead. The words were unrelated except for the fact that they kind of sounded alike. Lion-O felt his back sliding along the wall as he sat down, listening as his brother continued. "Look, it's pandemonium. Everybody's in a panic, it's all over the news, and we need you back here. It happened about twenty minutes ago. The suits want to know what you intend to do, since you've come of age and 'the owner is…deceased.' And-And you need…to help me figure out the funeral."

His brother's voice broke, and Lion-O's stomach went cold.

Tygra didn't cry. And he didn't freak out. He just didn't, no matter what. Only something colossally horrible and monumentally awful – something completely real, not a sick joke – could possibly make his brother-

"I'll come down as soon as I can. Don't…Don't panic, okay? I'll be there-"

Tygra cursed, at him this time, and the searing word burned. "'Don't panic!' Dad was shot, Lion-O! He's been murdered! Turn on the stinking news, it's on every channel! Just…get your tail down here. I'll pick you up at the airport with security, don't stay anywhere alone tonight, there's a lot we have to do. Somebody might be after us too, so don't wander around. He…we…"

The line went silent. To hear Tygra the implacable lose it broke over him like a wave of Novocain, leaving him heavy and hollow, staring vacantly at the wall. Unbelief was slowly starting to trickle away, and he was afraid in the back of his head what would happen when it did.

Dad? Big, tough Dad, who could maul a bear if so inclined? Imperious, commanding Dad, who had muscles and nerves of steel? Burly, powerful, pick-up-either-of-his-boys-even-though-they-were-nearly-grown Dad? He was dead?

He stared at his phone and headed back down the hall toward the kitchen. He had to stop once or twice to lean on the wall.

_He's dead. Dad…he's dead._ Lion-O looked into the kitchen. The kittens were babbling, Jaga was turning the radio up a tad, and Cheetara held Snarf and appeared to be scolding him. She glanced up and saw him in the doorway.

"Lion-O, tell Snarf to sit down and quit being a pig, he's trying to eat the-"

She stopped. Her eyes narrowed and flickered over him, and he realized he was trembling. "Lion-O? What's wrong?" Snarf ceased squirming, hanging in her grip. Both kittens looked at him, grins gradually lowering into slight frowns.

"What's up Lion-O?"

"You're all white. You gonna toss your cookies?"

His throat was obstructed. He felt his Adam's apple bob, and it ached. "Tygra called. He…there's been…"

He looked down and couldn't feel his fingers. Dad was dead. He was gone. He'd never hear Dad call for him or feel him ruffle his mane or sigh in exasperation because of something he'd done.

_I didn't get to say goodbye. Did I tell him I loved him in my last phone call? Did…did he listen to it?_

"Lion-O? Hey, what's wrong?" Kat was pulling at his arm, and Kit had her arms wrapped around his waist. "If you're gonna toss cookies, I'll get ya some ginger ale."

"Sh!" Jaga turned up the radio, as the music had suddenly ceased.

"…The suspect is still at large; possible motivations are unknown, and the authorities have stated that they have no evidence to go on yet. Claudus Leo Rey was forty-four years old, and had been the CEO of world renowned Thunder Enterprises for twenty years, and was well known for his company's work in the technology field and the development of over two thousand jobs in Pantherle alone-"

The radio sputtered and finally – after nearly forty years of use – died. They all stared at it for a while.

Lion-O felt the kittens' stares needling him like darts, and Snarf's eyeballs were like marbles as Cheetara slowly placed him on the ground. "That's…that's what the call was about. Tygra just found out," he managed. Kit tightened her grip on him as if to keep him steady, and Kat's paws squeezed his wrist so suddenly that it actually hurt.

Cheetara looked like a statue of gold, so still was she for a moment. Then she was a smooth motion across the room, a bolt of gold mixed with the scent of floral soaps and soup. She didn't say anything, but her eyes held that quality that always pinned him in place, as if she were reading him like a children's book. "He was supposed to visit early for Christmas…his finals were-were earlier…"

And then he couldn't talk anymore. He wasn't crying, but he couldn't feel his paws and Cheetara seemed faint and pale, along with the rest of the world. Almost as if he were made of rubber, he felt himself falling from a distance, slumping. The kittens yelped and Snarf squealed. But the shock was something he hated, something that sapped his strength, and he buckled-

Cheetara. Her arms caught him, her warmth covered him and slumped to the floor with him. Her mane smelled sweet and he thought he heard her say, "Give him a minute."

Lion-O felt it when Cheetara let him bury his face in the side of her neck in his dizzy denial, murmuring what sounded like assurances that it would be all right. He felt her paw against his back, holding him like a child. And he felt it when Kit and Kat and Snarf pawed at his back and shoulders and sides, murmuring and huddling close. But he couldn't feel much else.

* * *

><p><em>Author Note<em>

Doesn't that just suck? Lion-O's happier than ever, and what happens? Even in fan fics the kid can't catch a break. Ah well…so comes the burden of being the protagonist, I suppose. And Tygra too…life's about to get sucky for everyone's favorite cats.

1 – There are never enough blue M&M's in a bag nor parking spots in college parking lots. By these two facts I stand.

2 – I don't know if the Cha Cha Slide days are still going on. I heard it at my senior prom, but that was a couple of years ago. Oh, and Cupid Shuffle, that too. I kind of miss the Electric Slide and Macarena from elementary school…never did learn the Electric Slide properly. And you know, that thing about having no slow dances at prom? I went junior and senior year and there wasn't a single slow dance. Rather disappointing.

3 – _The Great Gatsby_ always makes me sad. Nick was the only character I found I could genuinely like, even though I felt pity for a lot of the others.

4 – Shakespeare's 'Sonnet 147.' 'Nuff said.

5 – Interesting thing I noted in episode 14; when Tygra made a comment about Cheetara's "back" after she kissed his cheek, Kat and Kit both looked perturbed. When making comments about Cheetara and Lion-O in episode 6, Kit was blushing but not perturbed in the slightest. I found that odd and interesting. Perhaps Kit didn't like the comment or something, but her different reaction struck me. However, since she has not shown to be opposed to perceived romantic gestures such as kissing between Lion-O and Cheetara, I feel her reactions in this chapter are suitable. In case anybody wondered if I had taken that into account.

6 – If you or your significant other refer to each other as shawty, cupcake, or any similar pet name, please do not be offended. I am not one for pet names, and shawty has always struck me as annoying. And I just get the feeling that if anyone tried referring to Cheetara as such, she'd knee them where it hurts. Maybe. I don't know. In this AU she would. If Tygra refers to her with some such pet name in the show, I will pull a Kat and "hack up a hairball" so to speak. I'd do the same if it were Lion-O.

If you have enjoyed this, please review. I have been working on this story for months, and to know that you all enjoy it is one of the best rewards.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Nah. Not a bit. I wouldn't be a relatively broke student working retail and writing this purely for enjoyment if I owned anything you recognize; I'd be at Warner Bros. studios pestering people and bringing in cookies to work and trying to resurrect the series by writing the story in a different direction. I did that around Christmastime when I worked elsewhere. Brought in cookies I mean.

This chapter is a tad depressing. Because lots of yuck-stuff is going on. Fair warning.

A few notes:

I am aware that in the show Lion-O's mother had blue eyes and may have had a slightly different temperament than she has so far in this story, though admittedly she wasn't around long enough to tell. I have been writing on this for some time, and any inconsistencies of that sort are simply something that shall have to be accounted to the AU factor. After all, did you want me to wait until the series was over to start writing this? That'd be a really long wait. Well…maybe. "Hiatus" might be just "cancellation" with a more tolerable name. Kind of a pity if it is, I suppose. Oh well. Life goes on. As do fanfics.

It is at this point of the story that a few other characters are introduced. Let me say that they are probably going to be occasionally contrary with their renditions in the reboot if one of them ever gets the chance to debut. I have had this story in the workings for months, and it has developed into something on a big scale. If worst comes to worst, put your knowledge of the show characters aside and consider them OCs or FCs, whichever term you prefer.

In this story, Pumyra behaves relatively like her show rendition. Except for the part where she hits Lion-O all the time and stabs him in the back and serves Mumm-Ra. Puppet or simply vengeful and evil, whichever you happen to believe about her, it's not part of this story. She's good in this, and she's going to stay that way. But she doesn't hook up with Lion-O, so don't go waiting for that either. So I'm going to write her a bit differently, though she should fall in line with her NS self minus the betrayal and nigh constant beating on Lion-O thing. THIS I WARN YOU OF RIGHT HERE. If you don't like it, don't force such massive chapters past your eyes. I'm nice, I'm warning you of it now.

Another is going to be another OS cat with my own special twists and such. So if he pops up in the show– assuming the show makes it at all – I'd appreciate you not sending messages about him being contrary to his show rendition since I have addressed that here. Thank you.

Another character is from the Marvel comics only, though one rendition of her has featured in NoWhere Man X's fic "Omens." I had already decided to include my own version of her in my story before I read that chapter, though considering mine is very much the opposite of his, I can safely say it did not influence mine. Though "Omens" is a lovely fic in its own right and I quite enjoyed his take on the character. :D

Again, characters are behaving in very upset ways. Not meant to be bashing. If a person watches the show and is honest with themselves, most of the characters have had truly awful moments.

LiChee in this chapter as there has been for the whole story, though more implied this time around. If you can't tolerate it, please don't waste your time reading my huge chapters nor writing a flame, really. I have no desire to take up your time with something you won't like which is why I warn you about it now. Nor do I want to waste my own time reading inane flaming babble and deleting it. I am fully aware of what's happened in the show. This is an AU, ladies and gentlemen.

* * *

><p>"<em>When you refuse me,<br>You confuse me.  
>What makes you think I'll let you in again?<br>Think again my friend.  
>Go on, misuse me and abuse me;<br>I'll come out stronger in the end."_

_Not Coming Home, _Maroon 5

* * *

><p><em>His very first memory he could recall came from when he was two.<em>

_She had long mane then. All the way down her back, fiery red and thin as silk. The striped cub in her arms was clinging to the old tire swing as her mane billowed around them, wild and careless. She looked like fireworks and red ribbons, and his brother looked up at her, tangled in that rippling mane and her arms. "Mom, how high can we go?"_

_He sat, watching from the blanket in the yard, sniffing a little from his sneezing fit. She held Tygra easily in her lap and he clung to the chain and her wrist. "I don't know Tygra. How about…oh, the moon. I always wanted to go to the moon. I've heard it's made of cheese."_

_"Mom, we can't go to the moon without space suits! Our heads would…explode or something! There's no air!"_

_She made a sound of surprised realization. "Oh! Well, thank goodness you reminded me. We'll have to make some helmets if we want to go there. We can't have our heads exploding."_

_She stopped the swing, climbing out and smoothing her sundress, holding Tygra on one hip all the while. His t-shirt and shorts were a little scruffy from the romp, and there was grass stuck in his mane. Mom delicately began picking the grass out. "Claudus? How's Lion-O doing? Is he sneezing now?"_

_"No, I think it was just the pollen." Dad's voice rumbled, and he was suddenly being picked up, held, and he smelled that deep, pleasant smell. "Feeling better son?"_

_He'd been sneezing his head off since he fell in the clump of daisies. "Yeah Daddy. We play on swing?" He hugged Dad's head, and remembered that his beard had been much shorter then, and thinking how _big _Daddy's broad shoulders were._

_"I suppose. Leola, shall I?"_

_She grinned and whisked out of the way of the swing. Lion-O was aware of the world being below him as Dad carried him and settled on the swing. He'd been a young cat Lion-O realized now, not even thirty. He was heavy – a real lion, packed with muscle – but the swing had been constructed to bear weight, and the tree was decades old and strong. Lion-O held on tight and squealed when Dad made it sway back and forth. "Flying! Higher!"_

_"'We're' not quite 'flying' son," Dad corrected. He gave him a little kiss on the head as Lion-O bounced in place, watching the blue sky and dappled, dark leaves interchange as they swung. "Cats don't fly."_

_That was the only time he could remember Dad giving him a kiss. It wasn't usually Dad who kissed him, it was Mom who did that. Dad just hugged him._

_That was not so for Tygra. Dad was inclined to ruffle his mane and kiss his head. Lion-O didn't quite understand the different treatment for a long time. He'd been what, eight when he noticed? It had been then he wondered if he'd ever done something wrong along the line._

It's how he was raised. His parents kept the traditions of Sava-Na, like theirs did before them. Over there you only kissed the favorite, the eldest, the one you expected to pass on your line with honor. It was just automatic…he didn't know. I'm sure he didn't do it on purpose. It meant something different to him than it meant to us. It just meant favor. It didn't mean love. Did it?

Does it really matter now?

_"It's flying to him, honey." Mom and Tygra watched, and Lion-O saw that Tygra had his fingers buried in Mom's mane, trying to brush out the grass. He was gazing at it as it rippled behind her. "I'll make lemonade, okay?"_

_"Can I help, Mom?" Tygra asked. She nodded, and Lion-O considered._

_"Mommy, I help?" She smiled at him, eyes green and soft._

_"You're a bit too young, Lion-O. You have fun with Daddy for right now, and we'll bring out the lemonade and some cookies." Mom carried Tygra like he weighed nothing, like he was a doll and she could walk for days before having to stop. The easy strength in her arm wrapped around his brother and he was safe, secure._

_She'd been so strong and hale._

_The swing went on and on, nearly a lull. Lion-O had missed his nap, and the sun blazed deliciously hot before switching with shade in their movements. He cuddled close, letting Dad hold him, because Dad wouldn't let him fall off the swing, anymore than Mom would have let Tygra fall from her side._

_It was home then._

And then, Mom went further away than the moon. And she took home with her.

_He loved the feeling of that thick, warm fur as his eyes grew heavier, the thick strength of 'Daddy' and 'sun' and 'hug.'_

Things got weird. Tygra grew up. And Dad liked that. More than he liked it when I did. I was always doing something wrong, and Mom wasn't there to intervene, to soften the blow, to say something funny. To nudge him until he figured out what he was doing so he could correct it.

_And now…_

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for I know Thou art with me; Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me(1)." The pastor's voice was very quiet as he read the psalm, and the snow falling on the grass and tombstones seemed to blot out everything. The air smelled cold and stung his lips, and Lion-O buried his mouth in the neck of his coat.

He wished Snarf was in there. Snarf liked to hide in thick clothing and curl around his neck, and he was an excellent neck-warmer. And there was something soothing about the purr of the weirdly faithful little guy.

The casket lowered. Lion-O's chest tensed and tensed, and his eyes were too hot. He couldn't swallow, and suddenly the world looked even fuzzier than before, melting into a mass of colors and water.

_Dad. _He'd hugged him when he left after Thanksgiving– hugged him so tight, told him he loved him – so at least there was not the regret of parting on bad terms, right? So why did he hurt so much when he thought of their goodbye? Lion-O wanted to jump back into that moment, into Dad's arms, tell him he loved him again.

His cheeks suddenly hurt, and he realized it was because they were wet and the cold air was rushing against him. He rubbed a paw against his face and wished his nose would unblock. Dad's manly, masculine embrace hung around him like an odor, one of musk and earth and smoke.

Every complaint he'd ever had came ramming back into his heart in the quiet moments. The unspoken questions, the disagreements, they all cut at him and kicked. _If you hadn't argued about theoretical tech, maybe he would have had a higher opinion of you. Or if you'd applied yourself earlier he would have been prouder. Or paid attention about the company, maybe then there would have been less fighting. If you'd shut your mouth more often there might have been more peace in the house._

_If you'd just been a better son, he might have liked you as much as he liked Tygra._

He stood quietly at the grave for a long while. He nodded when people spoke to him and passed by him, some touching his arm and some standing a while before leaving. They left awkwardly, feebly, as if unsure of whether or not they ought to go or wait for him and Tygra.

"Thank you for coming," he would say. "We'll be all right. Just need a few minutes here."

Lion-O and Tygra had not talked much that week. And they did not talk much at all standing there in the snow. There wasn't anything to say.

Dad was gone. And where he had been was a vacuum that sucked out warmth and any good memory. Lion-O gazed into the hole and watched snowflakes collect on the casket's surface. Tygra's white face was like snow except for where his tears had fallen. Not many tears, but everyone had shed a few. They were starting to freeze in his fur.

"You know we have the meeting in an hour," Tygra said finally. Lion-O shuffled his feet in the snow.

"Yeah."

Neither of them wanted anything to do with Reys. To be in that mass of brown fur and red mane and blue eyes…and not have Dad there to deal with them too…it was going to be hard. And they'd want to talk about Dad, what happened.

The lions generally ignored Lion-O when they visited. It had always been Dad they wanted to talk to, though Lion-O knew he'd been the topic of discussion many times. Tygra as well, but that had been years ago, and Dad had put an end to that very quickly. Apparently a few of them had made snide remarks about Tygra's adoption and Dad hadn't discovered this until Tygra was six and asked him, after hearing someone say it, what it meant for a cub to be 'foisted onto a couple, even though he's a stinking, filthy Sieger.'

Neither brother remembered much about it other than the lions coming out of a room with Dad looking angry – and nervous, in the case of the smaller ones – with Dad bringing up the rear with fire in his eyes. Never again had Lion-O heard an ill word spoken about the adoption of a Sieger tiger.

He, on the other paw, had always been hotly discussed. And always far from Claudus' ears, as they'd learned their lesson; never let him hear. People said fascinating things about three-year-olds when their parents weren't around and the kid played with their Doofle on the floor.

_"Tiny isn't he? My cub was twice that size at three."_

_"That mother of his had a family history of cancer…wonder if he'll contract it later? Claudus doesn't need this…"_

_"He doesn't talk much. Do you think he might be 'slow?'"_

_"Looks a lot like his slattern of a mother. Dirtying the Rey line…Claudus' parents opposed it completely, but he went ahead and married some northern lioness without a penny to her name. I'm sure her standard of living went up when she nabbed Claudus. Didn't do her any good in the end."_

It was also interesting what three-year-olds remembered when they grew up.

Lion-O just stood in the snow, thinking about how Dad had looked like he was sleeping. But it had been painfully obvious he wasn't sleeping. Because Dad snored really loud. And his mustache flickered when he breathed, like something out of a cartoon. He'd been so elegant and still in the casket.

"Come on. Your lips are turning blue." Tygra's comment made him retract back into his collar like a turtle and turn to follow his brother to his car. As he walked on the path his feet burned with cold, and he just stared at all the tombstones and the wet, fading flowers going crispy with ice.

So many of them. So many dead people. Lion-O glanced back at the tombstone one more time, reading his mother's name before exhaling and passing through the delicate black gate.

* * *

><p>The Reys were important and they acted like it.<p>

As one of the oldest family names in the world – not to mention the ones connected to the famous-slash-_infamous_ Leo Dignitas Rey – they had money and prestige. Though not directly involved with Thunder Enterprises as a general rule, anything that reflected on their title and name had to be given attention. And as much money and notoriety as Thunder Enterprises had, it was included in that list.

Not to mention Lion-O was the last male of direct descent that could sire any sons to carry on the name. So no matter how much they hated him, they were always nosing into affairs dealing with him.

It wasn't a terribly large meeting, but the lobby was filled with brass fur and red manes, all taller than he. Beady bright eyes and artfully angled brows made them look wild, exotic, and Lion-O felt distinctly domestic beside these people. Tygra was aloof, silent; the Reys nowadays were torn between liking of him because of his talent and dislike because of his breed, and Lion-O found that he was very irritated when one lion seemed to give him a dirty look for his stripes.

Lionesses gave Tygra no such looks. Lion-O found it dryly amusing that they would act so cool toward other breeds but then, upon seeing his brother, they'd hesitate a little, as if rethinking their idea that, "Only lions are attractive or acceptable mates."

Hey, he didn't get along with Tygra. But even Lion-O, as little as he understood the female mind, knew women found Tygra very attractive. Feles' reaction to him had been the norm.

There were also employees present, mostly ones that had been with the company a long time and had formed friendships with Claudus. But even though they outnumbered the lions three to one, they still seemed to duck their heads and feel uneasy. Leopards, bobcats, servals…

A smudge of pale fur drew his eye and made him blink. Stuck amongst the lions was another type of cat, looking out of place and sheepish, skirting around them on nervous toes. He tilted his head to see them better and was surprised that it was another tiger. Unlike Tygra, though, this one was milky white, black stripes looking even darker against his fur. Wearing black dress slacks and a plain white button-up shirt, he kept trying to get through the "pride" as it were, and people kept cutting him off. He was lanky, not quite Tygra's height and probably weighing less than Lion-O.

A white tiger. He'd never seen one before. Again the tiger meekly tried to squeeze through but winced when somebody stepped on his foot.

Lion-O left his place next to the wall and slipped down between the lions. People let him pass and he touched the tiger on the shoulder. "Hey. You okay? You look lost."

The tiger turned and Lion-O blinked; this close he looked very young. He had blue eyes – dark indigo – and frosty blue markings on his face along with a single black mark on each cheek like Tygra. But there was something boyish about the set of his mouth and the way his face was soft. He looked like a teenager but somehow seemed younger. His mane was scruffy and a tuft of white fur on his forehead stuck up funny.

"I was looking for my sister. She worked personally for Mr. Rey, and she wanted to come to the meeting today." The tiger's voice was soft, raspy. Like he was going through puberty or something. Lion-O wracked his brain for any white tigress that had ever worked at Thunder Enterprises – any white tigress period – and came up with nothing. Still, that didn't mean much; he hadn't spent much time around the company. "She told me to wait over there, but…"

"Here, let's get out of these people." Crowds had always bothered him, and he could remember more than one occasion where somebody delivering him from an embarrassing situation would have been welcome if they'd ever come. And the tiger stuck close to him as Lion-O brushed and bumped his way through.

Sometimes you just had to ignore the looks you got. If they were too rude to move, he was rude enough to force a route through.

He led the tiger to one of the benches around the corner of the room and said, "Sorry about them. They're…well, they're _them_."

The tiger sat down and smiled pleasantly. "I know. Sis told me they're like that. Thanks for getting me out of there. A lot of them wouldn't even look at me, much less talk."

The fact that Dad had died only days ago and had been buried not an hour beforehand was to be ignored; the lobby of the main Thunder Enterprises office building was a hub of murmurs and gossip, and with many employees and the Reys present, it was crowded and unnerving and the air was thick with snootiness from the latter group. After the burial was the best time, as everybody could congregate directly after it and then disperse. Lion-O's palms began to sweat when he thought about the little speech he'd prepared to give; it was basically a bunch of waffling about how, at the beginning of January, he would assume control as the will stated. Until then, though, the board would run things.

One month. A little less than a month. And then…that was it.

Lion-O tried not to think about it. He went over his little speech in his head again and sighed. The tiger looked at him and Lion-O said, "Sorry, I didn't even ask your name."

"Bengali?" The tiger perked up at the word and, deciding that must be his name, Lion-O turned his head to see who had called it. A woman was pushing her way through the people, subtle like a freight train as she elbowed a lioness out of the way.

She was a puma a few years his senior. Her face was striking, dark marks angled around her eyes and making her yellow eyes seem to spark. Her mane was up in a knot and she wore a neat, modest black dress, and she might have been pretty if she didn't look so…aggressive. Something in the set of her jaw and the angle of her shoulders bespoke of command.

She was slightly familiar. Pushing Reys aside as if she'd dealt with them one too many times before and her patience had been used up long ago, she stalked across the room without another word. Bengali waved. "Hi Sis."

Lion-O glanced from tiger to puma and decided Bengali must have been adopted. Or she was.

The woman paced toward them, eying Bengali. Something seemed to cool in her gaze, calming. "You okay? I told you to stay where you were."

"I know. But a lioness told me I was too tall and she couldn't see, so I had to move." She snorted.

"Figures. Always griping about something, these prima donnas," she muttered. Glancing at Lion-O she added, "Excluding present company, Mr. Rey."

"Uh…right," he said. "I understand, miss…?"

"Pumyra. Pumyra Verus. But call me Pumyra. Mr. Claudus Rey did so." She extended a paw and Lion-O shook it, noting that her grip was strong, direct. Her nails were feminine, but somehow he got the feeling that if this woman wanted to beat the tar out of somebody, she could.

She and Panthro would have hit it off. "Right. You're his…I don't want to say 'secretary,' some people don't like that word."

"It's what I am. Calling me anything else doesn't change that." Lion-O smiled vaguely.

"You're also the bolt that kept his office organized and working if I remember right." She shot him a smile.

"I do my job." The smile faded and she crossed her arms. "I was sorry to hear about Mr. Rey. He'll be missed. I've worked for him for five years now and…well, he gave me a good job when I needed it most. So I owe him. He was a good cat, even if he couldn't alphabetize worth anything."

To hear someone speak affectionately of Claudus – really affectionately, even mentioning his disorganization – made Lion-O's eyes warm and his heart ease a little. "Thank you. Nice to know there are people who remember him, not just this whole situation."

She glanced up at a passing lioness that had dared to give her a lofty look. She bared her teeth in a sharp grin, and the women started visibly before hurrying past. "Don't you just love your relatives?"

Lion-O put a paw to his forehead in embarrassment. "As much as I love public speaking."

Tygra pressed his way between a couple of employees and Lion-O read tiredness in the lines under his eyes. Nobody had been sleeping well lately, least of all them. The days had all been rushes, greeting funeral goers, appeasing employees and relatives as they e-mailed and called and arrived…nothing defined stood out but the moment they'd both seen Dad, cleaned and ready for the funeral showing.

The bullet hole in his head had been concealed very well. Only by looking down directly from above could one see the indentation. And the suit had been so pressed and black, perfect. His mane and beard had been combed to look neater than they ever did while he was alive.

But he was so still and quiet. That body was a shell; it did not house Dad. Didn't house that life, that energy, that commanding air. It made Lion-O want to turn around and run away until he really found _Dad_, all life and power and energy. Because that empty body wasn't Dad. Not anymore.

Again he buried himself in the memory of hugging Dad. He'd hugged him and said he loved him; there was no regret there, right? Dad had known he loved him, even if they had problems and didn't see eye-to-eye on everything.

He tried not to jerk when Tygra's voice pulled him back to the present. "…Reys are all asking who did it. The police haven't found anything that they've told me about." Tygra looked at Lion-O, who simply shook his head.

"They're using the bullet to try to figure out what kind of gun was used. They think it's some personalized weapon because it doesn't match any kind on file."

Tygra folded his arms and nodded at Pumyra. "Ms. Verus. Nice to see you're out and about, in spite of our…company." Of course, Tygra had been around the company every break from school; he probably knew more of the employees than Lion-O ever would. Tygra glanced at one of the lions and received a hearty sniff of disdain. So instead he glanced at the lion's daughter, drifting by his side. She looked about eighteen, and Tygra gave her a fetching wink. Her face flushed pink – not with displeasure – and the lion growled, directing her away.

Tygra smiled sardonically as he watched them go. "It's always fun to make them mad. I have to get my licks in any way I can. Daddy's precious little girls noticing a tiger always rattle their chains."

Pumyra shrugged. "If it makes these uppity jerks mad, I say go for it. They're the reason the aides keep quitting. Hard to find good secretarial help anymore. Nobody wants to put up with them when they call." Bengali let her rest a paw on the top of his head, and Lion-O watched her smooth the scruffy tuft of white mane on his forehead back before it sprang right back into place. Tygra shrugged a shoulder.

"Lion-O, just give the speech and get it over with. They need to leave to catch their flight, and the sooner they go the sooner we can breathe easy," Tygra said. Lion-O balked, feeling his paws start sweating.

"The flight's not for another six hours."

Tygra gave him a pointed look. "I want them out and so do you. Besides, are you just hoping everybody's going to forget you have to give a speech?"

In the ideal world, yes, everyone would just ignore him as he was quite used to. But Lion-O shook his head. "Fine. I'll…I'll just tell them that next month is when I'll officially assume control."

Tygra seemed to roll his eyes. "Please don't tell me you have index cards with notes."

There was an awkward pause. "If the notes are on the podium…"

"Lion-O, they'll see you reading them. This isn't Public Speaking one-oh-one. You have to actually look like a boss now." He buried his face in a paw. "Just go up there and get it done."

Bengali's big eyes were sympathetic. "We had to give an oratorical in my English class. It was scary. Try to imagine the guys in their underwear, it worked for me."

Lion-O glanced at Bengali, whose face was completely serious. It was almost funny. How old was this kid? "Why only the guys?"

Bengali looked affronted. "It would be inappropriate for a boy to imagine girls in their underwear. I imagined them with funny hats."

Pumyra affectionately scruffed his mane. _This kid must be a _really _late bloomer,_ Lion-O decided as he considered the advice.

"Boxers or briefs?"

Bengali seemed to concentrate. "Boxers. Pumyra bought briefs last time, so I'm wearing briefs. But I like boxers."

For the first time in six days, Lion-O laughed. It was small, and Pumyra cast her gaze toward the ceiling, but Bengali smiled. Tygra shook his head. "Just go."

Lion-O took a deep breath and forged back through the people. The tile was glossy green, and he could see people reflected in it as he tried to avoid stepping on black dresses and clawed feet. The high, arching ceiling was solemn, tan, and it took a second for him to climb the steps and stand behind the podium.

When the building had first been constructed, it had been made for things like this. Meetings and the ilk. What was usually a small stairway to leave the lobby and enter the halls and elevators was now a makeshift stage. The crowd's murmurings slowly ceased, and Lion-O felt hundreds of eyes resting on him.

The Reys watched him with even, calculating gazes, but it was the employees that he looked at. Some of them looked exasperated, as if to say, "Oh, whiskers, the _kid_." That hurt even though he knew that, as an eighteen-year-old who had barely finished his first year of college, he didn't exactly instill much confidence. Technically, considering he hadn't finished his exams, he hadn't even done that. Lion-O tried to ignore that. Then there were others looking at him with sadness, anxiety; these had cared about Claudus and the company. They had families and relied on the company for their jobs and to provide for their children. For such a long time they had been _able_ to rely on it.

It was for them he had to maintain composure, quietness. He exhaled. "Hello." Silence fell instantly and he wondered if he was the only one who could hear his heart in his ears. "Uh…thank you all for coming. I know it's not really been very convenient for anyone, especially considering the weather. It means a lot, and I know Dad would have appreciated everyone here."

A few nods, some sympathetic eyes. Lion-O's mind blanked for just a second before he remembered what he wanted to say next. He was shaking, but his voice was steady. "I know a lot of you probably have questions about Thunder Enterprises and a lot of the things that are going to go on. Right now we're going to allow the board to make decisions for the next month while my brother and I get our affairs together. Things like finishing up school semesters and moving back to Pantherle…you get the idea." Was it okay to say that? Nobody seemed to snort. "I know that this has been a really confusing time for a lot of people. We…weren't expecting to step up for some time. But Dad's will, in line with the company constitution, states that I'm to succeed him since I'm eighteen. On the fifteenth of January, I'll officially be named head of Thunder Enterprises by the board."

There wasn't so much a muttering as a collective…tenseness, a sigh of defeat. Lion-O shut his eyes for a second; he'd expected this. No use in hurt feelings, nobody cared about the fact that he had tried in recent years to do as well in school as possible. It didn't matter in the real world. "However, I'd like to assure everyone that the board is going to have a lot of say in what I do. They're experienced and are very familiar with how Dad ran the company, and I trust their judgment to help keep the company as calm as possible. And," he added, knowing this would soothe several people, "my brother is also going to be stepping onto the board. Most of you are aware of how well he's done at Tygus University –earning his degree already –and the fact that he cares very much about this company. So do I."

Relief seemed to ease through the group. Of course everyone preferred Tygra. And could he blame them? He spotted Bengali in the crowd, a white dot. His face was set, interested, ears perked.

"Right now we're still dealing with our loss, and we'd appreciate it if everyone would respect our need for privacy. This…has been a really hard thing to swallow for everyone. Again, I assure you that we're going to do our best and listen to voices of experience, and for the employees to keep calm is the best way they can help as we prepare for some coming changes. For right now, please excuse us as we settle our affairs. More information will be coming soon, and you'll all be the first to know." Lion-O stepped away from the microphone and noticed that his knees felt weak. The crowd erupted into quiet murmurs, and he slipped off to the restroom to wash his face and try to get his paws to stop shaking.

* * *

><p>"Not bad for your first speech. You were shaking like a leaf, but that's to be expected."<p>

It was hard to tell if Tygra was really trying to be helpful or not sometimes. Lion-O just kept searching through Claudus' file folders. "This one says something about a foreign group of energy and engine researchers…I can't believe he kept all these news clippings about the competition. It's two years old."

"Know thy enemy." Tygra glanced at the folder and sniffed dismissively. "Bunch of Thundera-hating small fries located in the Plundarr Republic. They call themselves LunaTech. Their prices are dirt cheap but their manufacturing is bad and their products are shoddy. So nobody's willing to import. They were just calling out Thunder Enterprises for being a power hungry, money wringing troll."

Even though the company wasn't his forte and running it was still a scary thought, that somebody had been badmouthing it made him grow hot all over. "No way. Dad's never let the marketing team charge more than what's fair."

"Of course. I think LunaTech actually got sued for illegal dealings right after that." Tygra shrugged and smiled. "Ah, karma."

Lion-O put the file away again. "What was everybody saying afterwards? About the speech I mean?" he asked.

"What I just said. You spoke okay but looked like a leaf." Embarrassment flushed through him and Lion-O didn't ask anything else, knowing that Tygra would fill him in regardless. "Plenty of pity from the employees. They knew you were scared to death. The Reys…well, you know. They hate anything that doesn't have to do with their pure bloodline, and they hated Mom. So you were doubly disadvantaged in their book. One of the lionesses, Sabah, is probably going to call later. I think she's the one Dad said kept coming over right before he married Mom to try to get him to break up with her." Tygra sounded disgusted as he opened one of the drawers of Dad's desk. "Morons."

To be in the apartment without Dad made everything quiet and hollow. To not hear his footsteps as he walked in the halls, making the mantelpieces rattle, was very unnerving. Snarf clambered up Lion-O's side, sniffed the air, and plopped onto the desk with his ears lowering. He meowed and Lion-O said, "Snarf says Dad's smell is still here."

Tygra didn't look at Lion-O but he met Snarf's eye. Snarf kept up the gaze, tail flicking. "What's it smell like?"

"Sna-Snarf."

"…He says it's musky and heavy. Really deep and rich." Snarf meowed again. "Kind of like cinnamon and coffee."

Tygra shook his head. "Are you making that up?"

Snarf bristled. "Snar-Snarf Snarf!" he hissed. Hopping over the desktop, Snarf planted his behind on the corner and turned his back on Tygra, chin up.

"He's offended. He thinks you think he's stupid." Lion-O realized vaguely that he'd lost interest in this conversation. Kneeling by the drawers, Lion-O pulled one open. Going through Dad's things felt wrong, dirty. They were invading his privacy and looking through his personal belongings.

_Do you technically have privacy if you're dead?_

"With the exception of Sabah, the Reys shouldn't start bothering us – or you, rather – until you've taken the company over. So we've got a month to figure out everything." Tygra frowned. "Have you seen Dad's cell anywhere? I haven't been able to find it."

"Probably left it at his work office. He left it lying around all the time, remember?" Lion-O almost smiled. "How many times did we have to check the pockets of his pants to make sure it wasn't in there when it was our turn on laundry night?"

"And he always got the oldest ones he could because the buttons were bigger," Tygra added. "He had a love-hate thing when he was looking at touch screen technology."

Lion-O mimed fiddling with a tiny phone. "'I'll never understand why everybody keeps making these things smaller and smaller; some of us have big paws!" he recited, pitching his voice lower.

Tygra's mouth might have flickered. "Ms. Verus is going to deal with the files at the office until you take charge. We need to get through these today." But he paused and moment and took out his own phone. "I haven't checked my calls in days. Everybody's been calling the house number."

Lion-O automatically checked his own cell. Dead as a doornail. "I've been calling back to Tretierra on the home phone. I need to charge this."

Tygra didn't reply to that, instead looking through his missed calls. "Couple of professors…nice they remembered me." For a second they were quiet, and Lion-O felt that miserable, sick feeling in his stomach. The one that came about when he had nothing to say or think about and Dad loomed in his mind with the sound of a gun. But Tygra broke the quiet. "Hey, did Cheetara get to see Mumm-Ra?"

Lion-O's stomach contracted. "Huh?"

"She was going to his gala at Ome N. I figured she would've talked to you about it." Tygra shut his phone and Lion-O put his fingers to the bridge of his nose, nursing the sudden pressure.

"…Yeah. And, um…"

Lion-O exhaled. Tygra gave him a weird look. "What's up with you?"

"It's just…you're going to…I meant to tell you earlier, but with everything going on…"

Lion-O bit his lip and murmured, "I actually went with her. To the gala."

Dad's apartment office seemed starker for the quiet, and Snarf stopped digging through the drawer to look at both of them. He had something in his mouth and Lion-O took it and wiped it off; Dad's favorite ink pen.

"You asked her out?" Tygra sounded calm. Too calm. Lion-O glanced out the window. It was starting to snow again, and the flakes were pretty and made him think of Tretierra. The clean apartment buildings and bare tree outside were all white.

"Not exactly. We went as friends at first, y'know, because we didn't know what to expect. But…well…"

_Just say it. Be honest and put it out there._

"We're together. I mean, I like her and she likes me." His ears were heating up and he half wanted to duck out of the room. It wasn't shame, exactly; there was nothing to be ashamed of in dating Cheetara. But a part of him wondered what exactly Tygra would do at this piece of information. _Feared _what he would do. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier; we were worried about the funeral, and then the speech today-"

Tygra shut one of the drawers a little hard, and Lion-O jerked his head up. His brother's face was even, quiet. "Congratulations."

Lion-O's stomach twisted in disbelief. "…What?"

"I said, 'congratulations.'" Lion-O stared at him. This…what…where was his brother at? Who was this guy?

"I…well…thanks. You're not upset?" Tygra shrugged a shoulder and Lion-O felt the smallest kernel of hope burning into him.

"Really Lion-O? 'Upset?' Why should I be?" He opened another drawer, looking through it and plucking out an engraved ivory letter opener. An old gift from their mother to Dad. The point gleamed and Lion-O watched it as Tygra set the sharp object down. "After all, this has been happening all our lives."

He put the item away delicately and slammed the drawer, hard. Lion-O flinched. "…What has?"

"This situation. What I want is taken away and, for one reason or another, you get what you don't deserve." Tygra's eyes were hooded, calculating. "So congratulations. You got what you wanted. _Who _you wanted."

The ember had gone stone cold, doused with watery derision. Lion-O's mouth was dry as he said, "I'm sorry you feel that way. I just wanted to tell you because-"

"To rub it in? How very unseemly. I would've thought angelic Lion-O would be too high for that." Tygra opened the next drawer and looked through it, banging around in it. Snarf flinched every time his paw connected with something and shoved it roughly aside.

"No! That's not it! I just didn't want-"

"Me to talk to her? What's wrong, think she'll change her mind? Or maybe you don't want me to ask her about it?" Tygra paused, eying him. It was hard to tell if he was serious or joking in some twisted way. "I suppose you might just be saying this to kick me while I'm down; it could be a lie."

Lion-O's temper sparked and he snarled. "Yes. My entire life revolves around hurting you. And I'm going to lie to you like that. That makes total sense." He picked up Snarf and set him on the floor so he wouldn't vibrate with the desk. "I just didn't want you to find out some worse way. Like seeing us kiss and not knowing about it first. I mean…that'd be horrible." He took a deep breath and wished his ears would stop pounding.

"I'll hardly have that opportunity. Considering you're moving back down here to succeed Dad." Tygra crossed his arm and tilted his chin back a little. "Or did you forget that little detail?"

"No. I didn't forget." Little else – other than snatches of Dad and his words and scent – had been going through his mind. "But I'm going to stay for a couple weeks after Christmas before I take over. To finish up some exams and formally leave Ome N." Lion-O almost didn't want to say the next part, but it would have been very cruel of him to withhold the offer. "Look. Jaga and Cheetara and the kittens want us to come over after Christmas for a get together. And I mean 'us.'" Lion-O's claws tapped the table and he tried not to shudder when he exhaled. "That's why I wanted to tell you. So when you go, you don't get an unpleasant shock or-"

"'When?' The term you're looking for is 'if.'" Tygra opened one of the file cabinets and Lion-O followed him with his whole head.

"…They really want both of us to come. They said specifically to bring you because they didn't want either of us to be alone right now."

_Kit and Kat practically crushed his internal organs with their hug. "You gotta come back real soon, okay? Right after Christmas, if ya can't get back before," Kat demanded, burying his face in Lion-O's side. Kit did the same and Snarf meowed unhappily from his carrier in Lion-O's paw._

_Jaga gently tugged the kittens aside and Kit sniffed. "Yeah. We'll still have a Christmas party. Only we'll wait until you get back. Because it wouldn't feel right without you. And bring Tygra too."_

"_Yeah! We'll all have a Christmas party with presents and stuff! Me and Kit are already working on our presents for everybody. We're making some for him too." Kat beamed so hard it looked painful and Lion-O saw that his eyes were red like he'd been crying._

_Lion-O just nodded. Talking was hard, and every time his chest moved for breath or words it hurt. Jaga hugged him around the shoulders. "Yes, bring Tygra over. You both need friends now."_

"_Yeah. I'll tell him to come."_

_Cheetara was last and she wrapped her arms around his waist. Lion-O gently lowered Snarf's carrier so he could hug her back, feeling the soft, worn cloth of her jacket. It was getting frayed on the edges. "Call us. Okay? Any hour."_

"_I'll call in the evenings. Before nine your time." She nodded. Jaga put a paw on either kitten's head and turned them around, and Cheetara pressed her lips to his. He kissed back very faintly, feeling the smallest warmth with the gesture. He didn't care that they were in the airport lobby in front of people. He tilted his head to kiss her cheek before picking up his pack and Snarf again. Jaga permitted the kittens to look again. Kat made a little face but said nothing about hidden "mushiness."_

"_You guys don't need to bring anything," Cheetara said, searching his eyes. "I know you have a lot on your plate at home."_

_He then decided he wanted to get something incredibly special for her. "I'll be back soon. New Years' Day if I can swing it."_

"That's nice of them. But I don't really want to spend time around you if I don't have to. I think it'll be a very nice post-Christmas season if you're not around." Tygra sounded cool and nonchalant. Fury was steaming in Lion-O even though he knew where the venom was coming from. Dad was gone. Christmas cards and pictures of families all together had been flashing at them for days. They'd always been missing Mom. Now…they only had each other.

"Tygra. Please. The kittens begged to have both of us over. Especially Kat. He likes you a lot." Tygra tapped his claws against the desk, moodily kicking one of the file cabinets before him.

"I don't exactly want them to have to put up with me when I'm in such a foul mood," he said pointedly. "Not to mention seeing you smirk at me over Cheetara's shoulder sounds like a crappy way to spend any day."

Snarf protested and Lion-O growled. "I wouldn't do that. We won't kiss in front of you or anything if it's that big a deal." But he had no response to the other part of them having to put up with the brothers' misery. Tygra had a point. Both of them were tense and angry, and…

The fact that Dad had been _murdered _– purposely killed, life torn away – had been scalding in him, boiling quietly. Police had interviewed employees, eye witnesses, even Lion-O and Tygra. Always hunting for information and evidence, they'd been pretty rough to deal with. Lion-O was shaken when one seemed to consider the idea that perhaps either brother might have had something to do with the death. But upon discovering their alibis – Lion-O had been in Tretierra, obviously, and Tygra had been on a plane – and finding their misery genuine, he'd softened. "Sorry boys. We've heard stranger stories. One man slipped swine rat poison into his mother's prescription pill box because he wanted to get his inheritance early. But you'd swear on your life he was just a good kid. He was only sixteen."

Lion-O fought the bile. And the hate in him brewed. So it was harder than it should have been to keep his temper with Tygra when his brother said, "Oh, well, I wouldn't want to get in the way of you falling on your face. After all, I'm sure you'll want to _try _to get 'cozy' with her at the earliest opportunity."

For a moment Lion-O didn't understand. "Huh?"

Tygra rolled his eyes. "Don't play dumb." He paused. "Never mind. With my little brother it's never playing."

Lion-O felt his chest thrum with a growl. "What are you saying exactly?"

The hatred pouring off his brother was like tar, thick and black. "Let's face it Lion-O; you're eighteen and you're 'dating' one of the most beautiful women either of us have ever seen. Not to mention there's no way you've _ever _been with a girl. Do you expect me to believe you haven't thought about sex?" He sounded angry, as if the idea of Lion-O entertaining such notions about Cheetara made him want to hit him.

Lion-O's jaw dropped. Snarf's eyes bugged out and he fell off the desk. "Wait…what? You…we just started…I haven't…I don't believe in that."

His brain whirled through several different statements he wanted to make before settling on one. Tygra's left brow lifted. Lion-O checked Snarf and made sure he was okay, lifting him back onto the desk. Lion-O's mane was stiff with embarrassment…and his own share of rage.

"First off, sex has crossed my mind. Duh." Oh whiskers, his face was going _so _hot. Was he actually talking about sex to his brother? Heck, he didn't have any idea what Tygra did at college, and he didn't really want to know. "But Dad raised us to…y'know…practice abstinence. He said he and Mom never had sex until they got married. And I want to do that too."

His brother's half-lidded, skeptical gaze made him madder. "Because you're just so pure? Or because no girl in her right mind would want to be with you?"

"I don't care what you think. Cheetara feels the same way, and so does Jaga. And I'm pretty sure Jaga would hunt me down, kill me, and leave my body in a ditch if I ever tried anything on Cheetara without marrying her first. And she'd never stand for something like that. They're very traditional."

He crossed his arms. "And anyway, we just started dating. So even if we didn't feel the way we do, we wouldn't just…jump in. Or is sex something expected on a first date nowadays? Kiss once and then you're in the sack? Confession then wham?" he asked pointedly. He sounded shrill and his voice was almost cracking with humiliated anger. Tygra snorted.

"You're an idiot. And you know about as much about relationships as I know about fantasy and all that other garbage you're obsessed with. Here I was thinking you were going to crash and burn because of your own stupidity, but instead you're just being 'holy' again. I'm not sure which is worse." He took some of the files and said, "I'm going to look through these files. You can do whatever you want. Call Cheetara; knowing how mothering she is, she might be afraid you're crying in the corner because your mean brother's picking on you." And with sniping finality, Tygra left the room.

And Lion-O wondered how much worse things could get.

* * *

><p>As it turned out, much.<p>

At least before the revelation Tygra had deigned him tolerable enough to sit in the same room with him for more than twenty seconds at a time. Now Tygra avoided him like he'd caught the plague, not even looking in his direction. The apartment was even quieter than before, and for nearly two weeks Tygra said nothing to him unless it was a barb, aimed to hurt, and Lion-O fired back as best he could. Their moods grew uglier, fouler, and Snarf uneasily avoided both of them by hiding in the blankets on the couch or by pulling books off the shelf and reading.

Calls from the Reys were frequent and unwelcome. Tygra ignored most of them, leaving Lion-O to answer most of the relatives, unconcerned with the fact that his prediction about them not calling had been quite incorrect. Most wanted to know about whether the killer had been caught, and when they said he had not, they were angered. "How hard can it be to find one murderous lizard in Pantherle?"

"There are a lot of lizards," Tygra had replied. The disdain in his voice made Lion-O glare at him. When he hung up he gave Lion-O a cold look. Then the two parted ways, neither saying a word.

The Christmas songs and decorations of Pantherle were always beautiful, and to walk through the streets was an invitation to be treated to wonderful sights and smells. Bakeries tended to be packed and offered pastry and hot chocolate samples, retailers were cutting prices and playing music over intercoms. Televisions played the specials and the family-themed cartoons. Everywhere it was Christmas.

Lion-O turned away from the cheerful images and the sight of families. He suffered through a few lines to pick up groceries and to get gifts for Kit, Kat and Jaga. The kittens were getting new art sets with crayons, markers, colored pencils and washable paint, along with candy and a few movies he knew they liked. Jaga was getting history books, new sweaters, cassette tapes for a radio-cassette player, and walnut fudge. Because Cheetara had confided in him over the phone that Jaga was receiving a new radio from her, and that the old cat had something like an addiction to walnut fudge.

For Cheetara he was at a loss. He wanted to get her something special. Something she'd never forget, ever. Something that would show her that, even in Pantherle, he was thinking about her. A new coat because she got cold so easily, a box of chocolates with jam in their centers – she was the only person he'd ever met that actually liked jelly in chocolate – were already on his list to get. But one more thing…he wanted something perfect for her.

He called on Christmas day over a bowl of soup. Tygra had taken his own serving and headed to his room. It was a pathetic Christmas dinner, but neither of them really gave a whisker. Dad wasn't there to appreciate a good one so neither wanted anything better. Lion-O sat at the table and used the home phone to call; he wasn't sure what he'd done with his own cell phone. He'd set it up to charge somewhere…

Not that it mattered. He spent all day in the apartment reading files and listening to various calls anyway. Not like he needed it. "Hello, Clera residence and Tretierra Veterinary Clinic. We are currently closed for Christmas except in dire emergencies including pets bleeding externally or internally. May I ask who is calling?"

He scratched Snarf's head as the pet sipped at his bowl. "You're good at that. You sound twenty."

"Lion-O? Hey! Merry Christmas! Did Santa break into your house too?" He couldn't smile right then even though he would have ordinarily.

"Uh…no, not really. I forgot to send him my list." Tygra hadn't gotten him anything for Christmas and he hadn't gotten Tygra anything. It just…it felt wrong with only the two of them, and with everything going on, neither of them had the desire to do anything. He'd gotten Snarf a piece of Christmas cake and promised him that he'd figure out something else for him.

"Kat sent his and must've told Santa I was scared of him. Santa left me a nice note explaining that he had a special deal with the police that allowed him to go into houses with a present permit that's good for twenty-four hours every Christmas. And he left me some of the cookies too. So I'm not so freaked out about him anymore. We got a bunch of presents."

Lion-O took a spoonful of soup. Watery tomato. It stung against his mouth. He wondered if Jaga or Cheetara had left the note. It sounded more like Jaga's type of thing. "That's good. What's your favorite thing you got?"

"I don't know. We haven't opened them yet."

Snarf perked his ears up and Lion-O glanced at the clock. "Getting a little late, isn't it? Dinnertime's almost over."

"We wanted to wait for you and Tygra to come visit. Then we'll open all our stuff together. We've got your presents here."

Lion-O went still and was aware of Tygra standing behind him. "You guys don't have to do that. I'm coming in on New Years'; that's a long time to wait to open presents. And Tygra…"

He paused and looked up at his brother, rinsing his bowl in the sink. Tygra cocked his head and Lion-O mouthed 'Kit.' "Did you want to talk to him? He's right here." Tygra gave him a look.

"Yeah! Can I?" Lion-O handed over the phone and Tygra accepted it after putting the dish away and drying his paws.

"Hey. Wilykit?" If Lion-O were younger he would have been jealous that Tygra spoke so gently to another kid. It was a kind tone, one Lion-O had never heard directed at himself. But he'd grown out of that jealousy long ago; Tygra being nice to his friends had been because he genuinely liked them, and he was mean to Lion-O because he didn't like him hardly at all.

So there was no point in being jealous anymore.

"Hi Tygra! I was just telling Lion-O that we're not opening our presents until you guys come visit! Jaga and Cheetara either. We've got all the gifts wrapped under the tree. You're coming too, right?"

It wasn't exactly how Lion-O liked to get his brother to come to Tretierra, but Tygra had been adamant before this. But he knew that if a begging kitten wouldn't work, nothing would. So his eyes went wide when Tygra replied, "Sorry kiddo. But I've got a lot of things going on in Pantherle right now. Lion-O's going to be visiting on his own this time."

Snarf stared with quite a bit less decorum. Okay, so his mouth had dropped open, soup spilling back into the bowl and down his chin fur. "Aw…but it's Christmas. We wanted to see you both. And we're making cookies and stuff."

Tygra rested one paw on the table. "I know. But somebody needs to stay back and watch after the company while Lion-O packs up. And I've got a meeting right after the first."

Kit was quiet for a few seconds before Lion-O heard her say, "I understand. But I still wish you could come too. We haven't seen you since Thanksgiving weekend."

"Maybe later, after things calm down. Technically Lion-O shouldn't…"

Tygra stopped himself and Lion-O saw his jaw set. "Never mind. Have you had a good Christmas?"

Kit chattered at Tygra for a few minutes about the letter from Santa – a tradition that Tygra held as ridiculous; he'd seen through the Santa gimmick at five and had little more than contempt for it – and Lion-O watched his brother sit through her babble patiently. Tygra's little barb about Lion-O leaving had been unfinished but no less potent.

_It's not bad to go back for a week to see them. I'm going to settle things and spend some time with them, and then…_

"Here. She wants to talk to you again." Tygra again interrupted his train of thought and Lion-O took the phone back. His brother vanished out of the dining room and Lion-O put the phone to his ear.

"Lion-O…is Tygra still there?" Kit's voice was soft.

"No. I'm sorry he's not coming. He's…taking this hard. And I guess he's got some stuff going on; we haven't talked much."

Kit sighed. "We really wanted to give him his presents in person. And Kat's getting better at ice skating; he wanted to show Tygra. I'm sorry about your Dad, but we still hoped…"

Lion-O handed Snarf a napkin so he could wipe the soup out of his fur. Talking about this was hard, and he fought to keep his voice from being terse. "Hey Kit, if I tell you a secret, can you keep it from Cheetara?"

"Sure. Wait, what kind of secret?"

"I've gotten some Christmas presents picked out for her, but I want to get something special. Can you think of anything she really wants?"

The sound of a bird twittering in the background distracted him and Kit hollered something about, "No, it's still my turn! And Tygra isn't coming!" She paused. "He's got a meeting or something! Wait until I'm finished!" Her voice dropped again. "Sorry about that. I don't know what Cheetara would want. She's too old for toys and stuff. Maybe she'd like make up or something to help with her work."

Lion-O heard Kat bawl back and his ear twitched irritably when Kit hollered, "I told you to wait…what do you mean 'you broke the fort?' Kat, we worked for two whole hours on it…man. Lion-O, can you believe that? He messed up the fort of books we were building! Broke it all to pieces! We worked so hard on it too."

Sitting at the table, Lion-O decided two things. First, he was going to get them a tent so they didn't build forts out of books. And second…

"Kit, I think you gave me an idea. But I'll need your help. You can tell Jaga and Kat, but Cheetara can't find out, okay? I need you to get something out of her room for me…"

* * *

><p>Kaynar Sicar didn't much care for business or gossip or the trivialities that so bothered society. He was not a simple man, but neither was he overtly complicated. He liked what he did and he did what he liked.<p>

He liked weapons and he liked to have what he needed to make weapons. And he liked to have fun. He was a hedonist and he relished it. It was just the luck of all womankind that he had no interest in them, finding love in his weapons and chaos instead. Otherwise he might have decided to become a rapist or some other such lecherous fiend. But no, just guns and chaos did he love. And chocolate.

Oh, and money. Not because it was money or he was particularly greedy, but because you couldn't get things you liked without it. Alloys, chemicals, foreign designs. In his particular business, cash wasn't really hard to come by.

"Mr. Sicar? Phone call." The lizard offered him his cell phone and Kaynar put down the designs he was working on. Accepting the phone, he scrutinized the cup in the lizard's other paw.

"Iced mocha?"

"Yes sir."

"Dark chocolate shavings in the whipped cream?"

"Yes sir."

He peered at it and beamed. "Ooh. You even remembered my blue bendy straw. You're much better than the last hire. I had to break his nose before he remembered my bendy straw. He quit, oddly enough. Not that you ever 'quit' working for me. You're either fired or you die. Occasionally both." He grinned.

The lizard nodded without alarm. He was a yellow, scaled creature with a long tail and a very handsomely formed face. The scales along his lower jaw and underbelly were tan. He seemed to be of serpent relation. Kaynar was glad he didn't have to break his straight nose. The bright green eyes shuttered once and opened again. "Will that be all, sir?"

"Certainly. Go on and tell my secretary she's fired by the way." He slurped at the straw. "She didn't answer the phone within ten seconds last time. Trip her on the way out if you get the chance."

The lizard nodded. Kaynar flipped the phone up to his ear. "Hellooo?"

A grunt. "I've told you not to do that."

"I never made any promises." Kaynar grinned and listened to the door click shut behind the lizard. "Why are you calling, Addicus? Does Slithe-y hate talking to me so much?"

"I lost the bet," Addicus admitted. "You have the tendency to be…difficult to talk to."

Kaynar took a long pull on his bendy straw and smacked his lips. "Do you like chocolate?"

Another grunt. "I rest my case. Anyone in the vicinity?"

Scanning the room and its soundproof metal walls and door – not to mention his various designs pinned everywhere with tape – Kaynar said, "Just you, me and my masterpieces. To what do I owe this call?"

"Have you been watching the news?"

"Nope. Too depressing." Kaynar sat down on the floor like a kindergartner, licking some of the cream off his glass. "Why?"

"I just thought you'd like to know what your most recent weapon was used for. And to cover your tracks well. Because if you get caught we're not bailing you out. Though you were warned about that anyway."

"Oh. Who's pushing up daisies this time?"

Kaynar's weaponry went to the highest bidder that knew to keep their mouths shut. Somebody had a job that involved bumping off the spouse? Sure. Domestic terrorism? Hadn't come up yet, but why not? An elaborate plan for killing somebody important to destroy sense and safety? Dandy. All Kaynar was interested in was making swords, knives, guns…even some forms of poison. And there was a reason everyone went to him for them. Other than the fact that he required no permits and made his business completely above the legal system.

He paw-crafted each and every one to be unique and untraceable. Poisons' chemical structures completely altered in the blood to avoid detection, the daggers were of his own styles and disguisable easily on one's person, and every gun had its own type of bullet so it couldn't be used to figure out what the gun was, nor who had made or fired it. And the best part? He only made one of each kind, and he put no copyright or insignia on them. In ten years of this business he'd never been caught, and considering the types he worked for now, chances were he never would be.

The crimes and uses for his weapons had gotten more interesting lately. Used to just be wealthy people upset with spouses or other such nonsense. Now intrigue and power came into play, and it was far more fascinating than it had been before. Kaynar was absolutely amoral and what a liberty it was.

"Ever heard of Claudus Rey?"

"Mm-hm. Lion. Big guy. Runs a business in Pantherle." Kaynar tilted his head, pondering one of the designs across the room. It was a tad long from this angle…

"He's dead. Nobody knew what happened until after he'd been killed. Nobody caught the lizard either." Addicus paused. "You got your weapon back, I take it?"

"Of course. I always do." It had already been destroyed. They always were once they had been used. It hurt just a tad to destroy his handiwork, but as long as he made something better the next day, it was all right. Like an artist erasing one piece so he could start afresh.

"How _do_ you do that every time?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets." He had agents in place to do so. Addicus didn't need to know the particulars.

Addicus sounded careless. "The gun was good from what I saw of it. I know your rule of never repeating anything, but…"

"Nope. No exceptions. Things get messy with the police if you use the same thing over. They tend to pick up on your game. I never run out of new ideas." Kaynar picked at the wrinkles in his black shirt. "And nobody keeps them either. Job's over, weapon's gone. I make sure of it."

"You'd make a bigger profit if it wasn't a one-time deal you know. Madman." Kaynar smirked.

"You didn't call just to flatter me did you? Surely Mumm-Ra's top bodyguard is more important than that?"

"Just wanted you to be made aware of the mayhem. Not to mention the fact that, if the next phase doesn't pan out, we might need your invaluable services once more." Addicus' voice was grudging, and Kaynar snickered.

"From the mouth of your superior I take it? Who else is he hoping to bump off?"

"No one at the moment. But…you know of Claudus' sons? Tygra and Lion-O?"

"Tygra I've heard of. Pretty boy prodigy or something, isn't he?"

"Yes. Very intelligent. Ruthless when you cross him. We might need to get rid of either one if we can't force their paws in the right direction. Bump him off and the successor is a sitting duck. No experience, no knowledge…but then, bump off Lion-O and then there'll be chaos without another blood successor. Assuming he doesn't father a kid in the next few months or something. So either one might be fair game depending on Mr. Ammit's plans. He's willing to wait and see for now."

Kaynar stood up. Eraser out, he began to edit the picture. Really, the barrel of that one was too long. "What's the heir like? Lion-O."

"Eighteen, green. Weak but innovative. He's got an interest in Thundrillium."

Kaynar paused. "Ooh…bet Ammit doesn't like that. If they order shipments of it to analyze, he can't cut off supply to Thunder Enterprises without the whole world finding out. Too much publicity."

Addicus seemed to sit down if the squeak of a leather chair was any indicator. "In another three years we might have what we need to build you-know-what, but if that cub bumbles onto Thundrillium utilization, it might ruin everything. After all this time, we've gotten the experts and workers we need, and now this…"

"He might not worry about things like that right now. Sounds like he'll be struggling to tread water for the next few months anyway. And nobody takes Thundrillium seriously yet." Kaynar stretched and tilted his head this way and that. "Why doesn't Ammit just try to utilize Thundrillium himself? If he declares a patent on anything dealing with it his teams invent-"

"Like you said, nobody thinks there's anything to it. Nobody but this kid. And Thundrillium just doesn't have the extra effects Mr. Ammit's after. If you recall, I sent you a message detailing the construction of-"

"Oh yes. That." Kaynar sniffed. Amateurish. "Well, whatever. So I'll keep an ear out and be prepared to take a little trip down to Pantherle if, ah, my services are needed."

"We'd send one of ours. Unless you want to do it in person?"

Kaynar shrugged. He'd carried out assassinations personally before. "Maybe. Depends on my mood. It would be extra, but my rates are reasonable."

There was a pause. "You know, I haven't been able to contact the lizard we sent to do the job. He wasn't on the flight back here. I'm beginning to think maybe he cracked. Killing a cat doesn't usually set off a moral crisis in ours, but…"

Kaynar twiddled his straw. "Sounds bad. Sometimes they're not cut out for wanton murder. Keep me posted."

"Will do. Standard threats apply."

"Yes. I tell and I wake up dead. Ciao darling." Addicus' growl was cut off as Kaynar tossed both the phone and his glass over his shoulder. The lizard had just entered again with another mocha and he lunged, catching the empty glass between his teeth and the phone in his free paw. Kaynar whirled around and clapped. "You, my friend, are getting a raise. Did the secretary cry?"

The lizard nodded, taking the empty glass out of his mouth with his tail and handing over the refilled one. "Anything else, sir?"

"Nope. That'll be all. Hire me up a new secretary though, I go through them like candy." And with that Kaynar turned back to his other designs and began scribbling.

* * *

><p>The tombstone looked nice with poinsettias and white lilies.<p>

Lion-O didn't know who'd put them in the vases on either side of the stone, but the fact that they matched the red and white carnation set he had was strangely heartening. He placed the synthetic flowers atop the stone and looked at the other flowers. The person had dug some snow and ice out of the vases to make room for them.

He stood there a while, thinking about the stone and the fact that Dad was now buried under his feet. It made him a little dizzy, and he almost wanted to move.

_It's not Dad anymore though. Dad's with Mom in heaven. But…I still wish…_

Lion-O sighed. His breath misted. Snarf squirmed in the front of his jacket and popped his head up out of the neck. He too looked at the stone and lowered his ears. "Sna-Snarf."

"It is nice isn't it? We used to bring Mom flowers, but now they're both buried here. Dad liked white and she liked red, so we have to have a mixture." The solemn expanse of the cemetery swallowed most conversation after that. He didn't know how long he stood there, waiting for something – maybe closure? A rush of peace? – that just didn't seem to want to come.

It was just a big blob of angry nothing. Because he _was _angry, and he didn't know why. Was the pain of realizing his Dad had been murdered, life _stolen_, only now setting in like cancer? Now that disbelief had fled, resentment festered and stirred inside him.

Lion-O hadn't really been old enough to grieve for Mom when she died. He'd been old enough to miss her and her smell, old enough to sneak into her closet and take down one of her dresses and hold Doofle – then neat and clean and perfectly stitched – as he breathed in her smell, wrapping the cloth all around him like a cocoon. He cried when at last her scent faded. But he hadn't been angry.

Now he was angry. Very.

"You'll lose the feeling in your toes if you don't move your feet soon." Lion-O was a little too numb and bundled up to jump or he would have. The smell of butter and cherry filling hit his nose and somebody thrust a wax paper-wrapped pastry before him. Lion-O stared at the turnover for a minute before he looked to his right and saw Bengali at the other end of the arm, nibbling on another one. "I've got a few left. Sis took me to the bakery because I aced my quarterly exams."

Lion-O had little response to that. Bengali continued to hold the pastry out. "Seriously, they're no good when they're cold." Hesitantly Lion-O accepted it, moving his fingers around the sticky line of icing.

"Thanks. How long have you been standing there?"

"About ten minutes." Bengali peaceably continued eating, and Lion-O just broke half of the pastry and handed it to Snarf, who had again popped up at the smell of food. "What's that?"

"His name is Snarf. I'm not sure what he is." And Snarf – who never spoke of his own origins as Lion-O realized – meowed gratefully at Bengali and cuddled up to Lion-O's neck as he began eating. Lion-O brushed some of the crumbs off his jacket and eyed Bengali, who had a funny look on his face.

"Did he just say 'thank you?' Because I could swear that's what he meant." Snarf didn't say anything else and Lion-O wondered at it. Bengali understood Snarf too? A little jealousy – a stupid thing to feel over it, really – reared its head. He'd been the only one who could ever really understand his bizarre pet. He shrugged, leaving Bengali's question unanswered.

"Sis got the flowers for the vases. Hope you don't mind. She thought they looked nice." Bengali's tone was dreamy as he poked around in a white paper bag, presumably the one from the bakery.

"They do. I'll have to thank her for that." A sign of kindness toward Dad…_that _did help the festering sore, soothed it. "I didn't know she was very close to him."

"She admired him a lot. And he was always nice to me. I didn't know if it was okay to get flowers for the stone, but Pumyra said she 'didn't give a whisker if it was proper or not.' She just kind of does what she wants." He rolled up the bag's top and folded the paper under his scarf. "Are you and Mr. Tygra Rey all right?"

Lion-O thought of the venomous argument they'd had beforehand. It had been over something ridiculous, something trivial; had it been how he washed dishes wrong? "We're making it."

Bengali was looking at him. He didn't seem to realize it was starting to creep Lion-O out. The kid just had big, quiet eyes…

"How old are you?" Bengali blinked at the question. Lion-O sheepishly scratched the back of his head. "Sorry, I've just been trying to figure that out for a while. I can't figure out if I think you're sixteen or fourteen."

"Twelve. My birthday was five months ago." Lion-O eyed him in surprise.

"You're kinda tall for a twelve-year-old."

Bengali nodded. "My dad was a big guy. He was seven feet easy. And Sis tells me white tigers tend to be taller and lankier than other tigers." He didn't say anything else about that, instead asking, "Did you both have a good Christmas?"

Lion-O shrugged. Bengali did not appear put off by this, instead proceeding to babble. "Sis got me some cool sweaters with Superman on them because he's my favorite superhero. And a bunch of engineering books. I want to be an inventor one day, I think. I'm not sure. And she made turkey for Christmas dinner which was nice. She's good at cooking. I got her a necklace she really wanted and a hat and then I made her candy. She doesn't like jewelry usually, but she really liked the necklace. I kind of burnt the candy but she still said it was good."

Lion-O let him go on in this vein for about five whole minutes before he interrupted as gently as possible with, "So where is she? She didn't let you come here on your own, did she?"

"Oh no. Sis is too protective for that. She's picking up some _girl stuff_ from the drugstore across the way and told me I could wait here if somebody we knew was out here. And I saw you and said I'd stay."

Lion-O had almost laughed at the awkward, almost fearful way Bengali said "girl stuff." "I'm surprised. Don't take this the wrong way, but from what I've heard she's kind of a mother bear."

This he had heard from several employees and Tygra himself. Tygra had rolled his eyes and said, "She's obsessed with that kid. You'd think he was her son or something. You ran off to hide after your speech but I stuck around. One of the lionesses was rude to him because he told her she looked nice – told him to keep his eyes to himself –and Pumyra snarled at her. And I mean _snarled_."

And it had not taken a genius to see at the meeting the way Pumyra watched Bengali and hovered around him. Bengali nodded. "Sis takes care of me. She's a little overprotective, but it's only 'cuz she loves me. I'll bet your brother's the same way sometimes, right?"

Lion-O did laugh at that. It was a hard, uncomfortable bark. He needed to offer no response save that one and Bengali just looked at the tombstone. An irritating noise suddenly began – a clinking, clicking sound – and Lion-O noticed that the boy was messing with his coat zipper, tugging it down an inch then up, down then up.

_Oh whiskers…he's a fidget._ Lion-O fought the urge to sigh.

Bengali continued fiddling with his zipper but he stopped for a moment and Lion-O felt distinctly awkward when those dark eyes fixed on his face and seemed to stare through him. "I like your eyes."

…That was weird. "Uh…thanks?"

Bengali shrugged and nibbled the flaky turnover left in his paw. "A lot of those lions at the meeting were really stuck up. You could tell because they didn't like it if you touched them, especially if you weren't a lion. And their eyes had this kind of cold look," he added, gesturing with his pinkie at his eyes, "like they had mean thoughts and just had pretty eyes to keep you from seeing them, like mirrors. Yours don't look like that. They're clear like glass."

Lion-O had no response to that. Bengali smiled suddenly. "Sis tells me that people get weirded out when I talk like that. Sorry if that was creepy."

"I'm no one to judge when it comes to 'creepy.' And I guess I see what you mean." Lion-O took a bite of the turnover and exhaled, filling steaming like smoke from his mouth.

Bengali watched this. He breathed out too and watched his breath cloud and float away. "I think Sis wants to talk to you soon. She says there've been rumors and people saying bad stuff about you guys. She always used to keep an ear out for slander and stuff for Mr. Rey. He didn't care what people said about him, but if they badmouthed the company or were just plain lying, she used to dig up stuff on them."

Lion-O swallowed the mouthful. "Like…blackmail?"

"I don't know. Sometimes. She's very tough. And she cares a lot about Thunder Enterprises. There's a reason you never see people making light comments about it or lying. It's not that she threatens anybody. It's just Thunder Enterprises is an honorable old place, and if anybody's criticizing it, whatever they're saying had better be true."

Not sure of what to make of that, Lion-O shook the front of his jacket enough to knock the crumbs loose. "What kinds of things has she heard?"

He shrugged. "She doesn't tell me. I think it's about you. And if people are gossiping about you, it might reflect badly on the company."

"She can't nail anybody for that."

"If it's slander I can."

Lion-O hadn't heard Pumyra's footsteps in the snow, crunching as she approached. He glanced over his shoulder and was surprised to see a red and white striped cap on her head with a jingle bell dangling from the top. She eyed him as if daring him to comment on it. It contrasted sharply with her black coat that reached her ankles, and she walked with her chin out of the collar. "Mr. Rey. Hope you don't mind the vase flowers."

"Not at all. Thank you." She buried a paw in her pocket and withdrew a pair of earmuffs. Bengali took them when she held them out.

"You forgot these. Want another cold?" He shook his head, peaceably donning them. Pumyra then looked at Lion-O. "He can't hear a thing with them on. Can you?" she added. Bengali didn't even look at her, and Snarf poked his head out of Lion-O's jacket again. He'd finished with his pastry and was sniffing around for more.

Pumyra ignored him as Snarf wriggled free and pointed at his mouth. Lion-O made to scold him but Bengali – spotting the creature – took out his bag again and asked a little too loudly, "Can I feed him?"

Lion-O rolled his eyes and nodded. Snarf seemed pleased and extended his head and paws enough to take another baked good. This one was a plain cookie decorated with red and green icing. "I've been keeping an ear out for anything related to the company," Pumyra said directly, focusing on Lion-O. "Other than discussing the future of the company and your lack of experience, things seem to be as smooth as possible. Some people are nasty, but that's to be expected."

Lion-O shrugged one shoulder. "I avoid news feed commentary and blogs."

"Wise." Pumyra shifted her feet and the bell on her hat jingled. "You're about to step into a very big, very different world Mr. Rey."

"I know." He watched Snarf nibble the cookie.

"Would you like a piece of advice from someone quite immersed in it?" He didn't nod but Pumyra continued regardless. "Develop a good façade. There are going to be days when something's wrong and you want to pop a cameraman in the face or go on a cursing spree. But you have to behave with dignity." Her eyes were not exactly unfriendly but Lion-O saw something hard in them. At his questioning look she said, "Thunder Enterprises means a lot to me. It was a lifeline when I was stuck in a very hard place, and I'll always remember your dad's kindness to me. I won't let anyone ruin its reputation. Not even you." She held up two fingers. "There are precisely two things I care about in this world. The first is Bengali. The second is Thunder Enterprises. And what I care about I protect. I saw how you acted after your first speech. It wasn't terrible. But you have to get better. You have to improve and show no fear."

Lion-O stared. "You…do realize I'm technically your boss, right?"

She cocked an eyebrow. "Are you going to fire me?"

Sheepishly, he shook his head and felt like a pansy for it. Her hard expression softened a little. "It's not that I'm trying to tear you down. You seem like a decent kid. But you've been dealt a hard paw, and a lot of people are relying on you. You can't afford to screw up."

Lion-O didn't get a chance to reply. The crunch of approaching footsteps made him look up, and he was surprised to see Tygra coming toward him. His brother's mane whipped in the wind, and his expression was thin. Scratch that, he was _mad_.

"Where were you?" No preamble, nothing. Lion-O's eyebrows shot up and then lowered coolly.

"Here. Obviously." Tygra nodded curtly at Pumyra in greeting, pausing at the sight of her hat.

"…Interesting choice in headwear."

She shot him a look. "Bengali got it for me for Christmas. I find it charming." Her tone was robotic and Tygra shrugged. Bengali looked up from Snarf for the first time and spotted Tygra with surprise.

"Hello Mr. Rey. When did you get here?" Tygra's right ear flicked in response to Bengali's raised voice and Pumyra tugged down the earmuffs. "Oh. Sorry. I can't hear with them on."

Lion-O's fur stiffened when Tygra turned his gaze back to him. "I tried calling you."

"I've told you five times I can't find my phone. I took a walk to get some air, and then I took the bus down here to put the flowers we picked out on the stone. What's the big deal?" Lion-O knew Tygra was angry, and wondered what in particular he'd done to set him off. Was it still the thing about the dishes? Whiskers, Tygra needed to let it go…

"The big deal is that I thought you'd have the brains not to leave the apartment alone and wander around in public when the guy that killed Dad is still on the loose."

Lion-O blinked. "Huh?"

Tygra muttered something and Bengali shuffled his feet, peering into the pastry bag. "You didn't think about that? Seriously?" Lion-O shook his head. "Whiskers, idiot. Wandering around like this is dangerous."

"Why? Do you think they're going to come after me or something?" Lion-O asked. Snarf meowed in protest, popping out of the jacket again.

"It's possible. Because you _are_ the successor, and if somebody is trying to ruin Thunder Enterprises, going after you is the best way to do that. If you die there's nobody to run it under the company regulations." Tygra spoke as if a child would have thought of this.

"We don't know if that's why Dad was killed," Lion-O said, suddenly quiet.

Tygra's jaw was hard. "We don't know that it's not. We don't know _anything_. And you're waltzing around out here on your own."

Lion-O's face warmed and he began to feel foolish. "Okay, I get it. I didn't think about it, sorry. I didn't think whoever it was would come after me."

"Call me paranoid, but I don't think Dad was killed in some random hit-and-run. Whoever it was meant to kill Dad."

Snarf looked up at Lion-O uneasily. "How do you figure that?" Lion-O asked, stroking Snarf's back.

"No random mugger would have the guts to go after someone like Dad. And in a public place? Where they couldn't get at the body to steal anything?" Tygra shook his head in disgust. "They killed him for a reason."

Upon hearing this, it seemed so obvious that Lion-O felt even stupider. His ears tilted back a little and he muttered, "Okay, you're right. Sorry. I didn't realize. Does that mean I can't go outside anymore?"

"Not without security you can't." Tygra stood in the snow with a cold, long-suffering stance, tilting his head back toward the sky. "Yet another reason going to Tretierra is such a bad idea. You'll put the lot of them in danger if someone's after you."

Lion-O's heart stopped and then jumped right into his mouth. He hadn't thought that far ahead either. "I…I didn't…"

"Let me guess, 'think.'" Tygra shook his head. "You're bad at thinking. Good at dreaming, but when it comes to practical application…"

Lion-O was too upset to reply. How could he not have thought of that? The last thing he wanted to do was put them in danger. If the kittens or Jaga or Cheetara got hurt because of him, he'd never forgive himself.

But he wanted to see them one more time.

Snarf – as if sensing his new turmoil – patted his chin. And threw Tygra a dirty look.

"If I may?" Pumyra's voice and the jingle of her hat as she stepped forward surprised them; Lion-O had forgotten she and Bengali were standing there. "To be honest, if somebody had a bead on him and was going to-"

She paused and put Bengali's earmuffs back on. He gave her an inquisitive look. "If somebody was going to blow your brains out, they'd have done it by now," Pumyra continued bluntly. "You've been on your own for almost an hour out here. Do you think they'd let that opportunity slide? Not to mention the irony of it would have been good if they were trying to make a point, killing you at your father's grave. You'd already be dead if they wanted you that way."

Lion-O found that he wanted to shiver but didn't want to let anyone see. "But you're not. Which seems to indicate that whoever it was isn't interested in killing you currently. And anyway, if you let them scare you into hiding, you're already proving you're a weaker leader than Mr. Claudus Rey was. He didn't let anyone's threats dictate his actions. He used caution but never cowardice."

Tygra gave her a look and she gave him one in return. "Are you so sure about all that? What if you're wrong?"

"About Mr. Rey I'm right. And you know it," she said, voice deadly. "Whatever faults he had, he was brave and faced the world. And as far as the gunman, I've always got an ear to the police and things going on. They know more than they're telling." Pumyra shrugged a shoulder. "They have suspicions that the gunman is tied to a very wily group of assassins. That's about it, but there have been problems in the past dealing with this sort of thing. A weapon is used to kill someone and it's never recovered, the assailant seems to vanish into thin air without leaving DNA or anything else. There's nothing."

Tygra snarled. "Why didn't they tell us that?"

Pumyra's eyes grew hooded. "Because nothing's worse for a family to hear than the fact that they're likely to never see justice done."

There was quiet after that. Long, bitter, bile-on-the-back-of-the-tongue quiet. "I've got friends on the inside and that's how I found out. I didn't know whether I ought to speak up or not, but…"

Bengali pulled off his earmuffs. "I know you're talking about sordid stuff, but all I see is everybody's mouths going, 'Blah, blah, blah.'" He opened and closed a paw like a puppet and Pumyra shook her head.

"It's better that way." She looked at Lion-O. "Look Mr. Rey. If you want to go visit Tretierra, go. You won't get a chance for a long time. Tie up loose ends, all that jazz. Just keep it quiet and keep your wits about you. But don't let fear rule you. If the gunman wanted you dead, you'd be dead by now." She then gave Tygra a snort. "Besides, you wandered out here on _your _own. Hypocritical much?"

His eyes narrowed and his lip curled. "I can't succeed him anyway. Why would they bother with me?"

"Everybody knows you're the brains of the operation," Lion-O said at last. His heart had found its way back to his chest cavity. "Pumyra's right though. About all of it. And I'm not going to let them scare me into hiding," he added, eyes daring Tygra to disagree.

Tygra exuded venom but turned around. "Whatever. Do what you want and live with the consequences. Or _don't_. It's all the same to me."

Bengali's eyes grew very wide at that and fixed on Tygra as if he were seeing someone else in his place. "You shouldn't say stuff like that!" he said indignantly. Surprised, everyone turned to look at him. His voice was still soft but his eyes were hard with disbelief. "You've already lost your dad! Now you're saying stuff like that? Like you don't care if you lose your brother too?" Shaking his head, he offered the bag of pastries to Snarf. "Here. He's grumpy. Maybe some cookies will cheer him up." With that odd comment he took Pumyra's paw. "My feet are cold. Can we go now?"

Lion-O got the strange idea that Bengali was more upset than he let on, eyes downcast and avoiding their gazes. His lower lip was tight. Pumyra nodded after a moment and they left. His ears were tight against his head and he moved as if he'd drag Pumyra to get away quicker.

_Why did that upset Bengali so bad?_

Snarf pulled the bag into his jacket and Lion-O zipped the front to keep Snarf warm. And then it was just the tiger and the lion, alone and silent and simmering with resentment.

* * *

><p>It seemed that Pumyra was correct. Lion-O never received a threat in the following days nor felt as if he were being followed by a malignant force. He wavered between courage – <em>there was no reason for anyone to go after Cheetara and the others<em> – and terror – _but what if, against all odds, somebody attacked?_

_Dad didn't let fear rule him. But look where that got him. _His stomach turned. If he were the cause of anything happening to Cheetara, Jaga, Kat or Kit, he'd throw himself under a bus.

Nothing along the lines of a gun or a knife ever came near him over the next few days. However, something very interesting and frightening happened two days after the venture to the tombstone which made him realize that it wasn't only gunmen he had to worry about.

Lion-O decided that if he was going to Tretierra – against Tygra's wishes – he wanted to get Cheetara's jacket so he could wrap it and pack it with the other gifts. Upon revealing this to Tygra after much prying from his brother, Tygra said he wanted to go with Lion-O.

"If you're going to go there and risk their safety, I may as well send along some gifts for them with you." Lion-O didn't protest being the delivery cat or hearing the jibe, so they both went. Tygra seemed hyperaware but very still, listening intently to everything. He drove and Lion-O was glad of that. He'd never been any great shakes at driving and had planned on taking the bus.

Lion-O thought he heard people muttering their names when they passed groups in the stores. Tygra parted ways with him and for an hour Lion-O wandered the small shopping center of downtown Pantherle alone. He didn't say anything about Tygra not wanting to be around him all of a sudden; they were both feeling strange, almost bipolar in their bizarre protection and utter dislike of each other. As long as he was reasonably sure Tygra wasn't hurt, Lion-O didn't care where he was or what he was doing.

The jacket he picked out was black with red floral designs stitched into it, and the cloth was warm and comfortable. It would look nice on her and keep her warm. He'd pick up the candy for everybody in Tretierra; it would be fresher that way.

And of course, if Kit and Kat were successful in their little thieving venture, there would be one more thing. He reviewed in his head the address number for the shop he'd have to take it to. If they were as good as the website said, this would be something she'd never forget.

He met up with his brother at the food court, nose twitching at the smell of hot dogs and ice cream toppings. Tygra had a couple bags hanging from one paw and looked bored. "Come on. You're attracting attention."

Lion-O peered over his shoulder and found that, indeed, there were people noticing him. Several dropped their gazes when they saw him looking, but his fur began to prickle. "Why?"

"You're a Rey and Thunder Enterprises has been plastered in the news for the past two weeks nonstop. Why do you think?" Tygra jerked his head to indicate they needed to move and Lion-O followed him, feeling stares needling his back through his coat and sweater. "You've never dealt with the press, have you?"

They wove in and out of the people traveling beside them, Lion-O wishing his mane wasn't such a noticeable color. A lion stood out in the crowd. "Not much."

Tygra didn't look back as he said, "A few pointers then. Number one; don't punch anybody or do anything you wouldn't want to be on the news."

"Are those reporters then?" Lion-O had spotted the group again and knew they were being followed. Why was he suddenly sweating?

"Most of them. They won't confront you directly until we're outside. Too busy in here. If we can get out fast enough we'll slip under their radar." Lion-O was almost close enough to see individual stitches in his brother's coat. "Whiskers they're fast. Number two; better to give away not enough info than too much. Too little will spawn rumors but too much can doom whatever you're planning. It's like that old saying, 'Be silent and be thought a fool; speak and erase all doubt.' If they ask too many questions and won't let up, just keep saying 'no comment.' Push on through and ignore them."

"That seems rude."

"It's all you can do. Number three-" Tygra began.

"Mr. Rey! Mr. Rey, a word!" They'd escaped the crowds and were through the glass doors of the shopping center. Cold air burst over them and Lion-O's face burned with it. But suddenly fur and people were around them and he heard clicking. And Tygra's back was pressed to his, stiff with irritation.

_What's number three?_ Tygra had the advantage of being taller, so maybe he didn't get the feeling of being swallowed. But Lion-O was shorter and they were right in his face, tiny microphones, bigger cameras. And most shocking was the fact that, while they didn't quite touch him – save for accidental nudges – their presence was oppressive, heavy, their breath seeming to suck the air away. And the eyes were neither friendly nor unfriendly; they were hungry, shrewd, and all of them were quite a bit older than himself. And a few questions buffeted the air around him, some clear and some indistinct.

"Any updates on Thunder Enterprises? Should we expect to get any statements on your father's death?"

"Police have been saying they're looking for the culprit, but sources tell us the hunt goes badly. Any thoughts on that?"

"Why do you think the documents of Thunder Enterprises have held on as long as they have, considering they were made for a time of economic unrest? Mr. Tygra Rey, any animosity about not being in line to take over in spite of your education?"

What? What? His head swiveled like an owl's, trying to keep his eyes from widening. If he'd been better prepared he would have gotten mad, maybe yelled. But this…this was kind of scary.

_Dad always made the press leave us alone when we were in public before. And nobody bothered with me when he was around to question anyway._

Tygra growled and the clicks ceased, attention shifting to him. "We have no comments at this time. Please respect our need for privacy. Move," he told one, helping him aside with a firm nudge. He then grabbed Lion-O's sleeve and dragged him out of the group, ignoring the protests as he forged onto the pavement and into the parking lot under an overcast sky.

Lion-O's heart was racing and he knew he was sweaty when they made it to the car and he sat down in the passenger seat, chest tight. He'd never been mobbed like that before, never been closed into a group of people that didn't know the meaning of personal space. Tygra sat beside him quietly, smelling of annoyance and his preferred cologne. Unceremoniously Tygra dumped the shopping bags into Lion-O's lap and started the car.

Lion-O's throat bobbed and he opened his mouth to say, "Thanks." But Tygra just shook his head.

"Number three. Don't show fear." He looked at Lion-O. "Broke that one. What's the betting there'll be pictures of you freaking out in the local papers?" he observed dryly.

Lion-O's gratitude retracted from his mouth down to his neck. "I didn't know. And how am I supposed to not freak out when they're crowding all around like that?"

"They're not going to physically hurt you. And if you don't tell them anything, the most they can legally say is that you refused to comment. Anything else and Pumyra will be on them like a wolverine."

"I'm not good at this. You know that." Lion-O almost didn't say it but managed to dredge up the words, "Thanks for getting me out of there anyway."

Tygra didn't reply, letting the windows and windshield clear of mist before leaving. There wasn't another word spoken between the two of them on the way home.

* * *

><p>"The world is abuzz with the passing of Claudus Rey, but even more than his death, tragic as it was, the succession of the company to his younger son Lion-O Rey is what's got everyone talking. At eighteen years of age, Lion-O will take the reins as the historical rite-of-passage agreement dictates. In two-and-a-half weeks he will address the press and general public on the direction he plans to take, along with his brother Tygra Rey, who has come on as a member of the board."<p>

Click.

Three cats wearing short skirts were sitting around a glass table with lattes resting on them appeared to be debating. "Well, I'd rank it up there with kissing the business goodbye. He's a kid! One year of college and he's in charge? C'mon, history-schmistory, at least the tiger's got some experience and training-"

"Well, I feel bad for them both. Their dad just died and they're being hounded by everyone, and the new CEO must be scared to death considering we've got people like _you _downing him and snapping at his heels for a bit of a news story," one of them snapped.

"And we can't _really_ ignore the history behind this; that document is one of the oldest in our country that's still in effect-" another began, paw lifted in appeasement.

Click.

A very animated cat dressed in a coat and cap seemed to be standing outside a building in the snow, surrounding by others with picket signs. "-Forcing a horrible mantle onto a child? Is this what we, the community of Pantherle for Youth, are going to permit? I vote that we boycott the company that has so slavishly followed a brutal document for generations until the document is ratified so that it stops ripping freedom from the paws of future children!"

"It seems like people would find something else to talk about," Lion-O murmured. He took another drink of soup from the cup in his paws. "And I'm eighteen, so I'm technically not a kid anymore."

"Physically no. Mentally we're up for debate." Lion-O didn't respond to that as Tygra watched the television from behind the couch, pausing as he held his own mug. "C'mon, it's New Years' Eve. There has to be one channel that isn't talking about this. Try a major news network."

"That _was _a major news network. I don't care about seeing the ball drop anyway."

Snarf clambered into Lion-O's lap and examined the remote, hitting a couple of buttons. "He can work a remote now?"

"He likes to watch the weather channel. He says he likes the music they play when they're showing the weekly forecast." Tygra gave Snarf a weird look, and Snarf merely shrugged and meowed. "He says it's soothing."

Unfortunately it was not weather that was on, but rather a local "news" channel. And by "news" channel, "gossipy, late-night hostess trying to pull in viewers to the channel by talking about all the dirt and dishing on public figures' personal lives" channel was what was meant. At the moment she was discussing the third marriage of some rich young actress to some other equally famous actor. Lion-O stared at the screen vacantly. "At least it's not about us."

Tygra shrugged and finally sat down. "Let's see how long that lasts." Lion-O noticed that he sat on the other end of the couch and didn't touch him in any way. He felt Snarf cuddle against his front and stroked the furry back.

It was peculiar living with Tygra. One minute they hated each other, another they only disliked. Lion-O, who had never really grieved hard, didn't know if the mood swings and his own anger was normal, but Tygra's reserved hatred seemed quite in tune with his usual persona. It was just that, without Dad around, he didn't have any reason to hold his tongue. So he didn't. Lion-O didn't generally feel this spiteful and irritable, but he didn't dare ask Tygra if these emotions were normal.

So he just let them fester and tried to bury them.

"Well, maybe third time's the charm. We wish you all the luck in the world, lovebirds." The cat on the screen smiled, and Lion-O pondered at her blindingly white teeth. She had long, dark mane and pale yellow fur with brown spots and darker shades smattered over her arms and on her cheeks, and she might have been pretty if she hadn't sounded so hollowly amused. "All right, now everyone's sick to death of hearing about the Reys and their drama."

Lion-O groaned and Tygra muttered something about having called it, burying his face in one paw. "Snarf-Snarf," Snarf mumbled, and Lion-O understood him to mean, "And yet you'll proceed to talk about us now, I'm sure."

"I'm not going to bore you with more of the company drama. There's a side to the story that, I feel, has been neglected by the media in general. Let's face it, everybody's throwing wild theories, but what do we _know _about the new successor? I've heard a lot of blab about the business; let's find out about the boys themselves, shall we? I prefer the facts that pique our interest in people, not politics."

Lion-O glanced at Tygra. "I don't like where she's going."

"Hn. Like that matters."

"I'm a firm believer in age before beauty…although Tygra Rey happens to have good looks in spades, so don't worry girls." Tygra didn't react to this which surprised Lion-O – anything that stroked his ego was usually met with a smirk, but Tygra just looked bored when a picture of himself appeared on the screen. One from a Tygus University event it seemed. He looked just a little windswept in it, very handsome against the autumn trees and jackets. "This is from last fall while Tygra happened to be attending the Fall Festival at Tygus University. Looks pretty happy. Considering he would have known by this time that he's graduating Summa Cum Laude – and I mean at the very top – I'll bet he's pleased. Nothing to sneeze at."

She continued to go on about Tygra for a few minutes, and his brother just started examining his claws. "Seriously. It's New Years' Eve. What kind of channel doesn't even have a reporter ready to watch the ball drop? Why is she blathering about us?"

Lion-O shrugged. "I've never heard of it. 'Pantherle Evening National News.' I don't think there's anything 'national' about it." The woman seemed to be switching tack, and leaned back in her chair a little. Lion-O cringed when he saw a picture of himself on the screen behind her. It wasn't a bad one, but it was one of his college pictures for his student ID, and he looked decidedly young and nervous in it. At least he was smiling a bit. The legality of using a school picture was questionable, but it hardly mattered at this point. "I guess that beats them using my yearbook picture from sophomore year."

"You mean when there was a windstorm right before and you looked like a pompom?"

"Yeah. That one."

The woman leaned on one paw, elbow resting against her desk. "And here's our other Rey for the evening. Sweet kid, right? Everybody's boy-next-door. There's more to this ginger than just a pretty face, though. According to our sources, Lion-O Rey was present at the Mumm-Ra Holiday Gala a couple weeks back and took a stand that nobody else seemed interested in taking for a lizard about to be given the pink slip, even persuading Mumm-Ra Ammit not to fire the poor reptile, in spite of the caterer nearly scattering edibles on him and his date."

She flashed another grin. "That's right, date. Not only is he a cutie, he's apparently taken. We haven't been able to reach him for comments, nor his spotted sweetie, but just look at the photos." Lion-O stared as the screen showed himself standing with Cheetara, saying something to her. Her head was turned and he couldn't see her face, and he was dimly thankful for it; if nobody knew what she looked like, maybe they wouldn't bother her. How this tiny local channel had gotten the image escaped him.

He didn't dare look at Tygra though, and Snarf suddenly seemed to find burying his face in Lion-O's neck to be a very fascinating endeavor. "Cute couple, right? Nothing like a little romance to spice things up. Of course the old fuddy-duddies of the world who don't believe in lions breeding outside the kind will probably throw fits, but hey, true love conquers all, right? And it beats hooking up with your cousin. And don't worry girls, we haven't gotten any evidence of Tygra seeing anybody…how _that's _happened I don't know." She winked at the camera. "But let's think about the philanthropy here with the lizard, that's not so common for a lion. Heck, Claudus Rey wasn't so squeaky clean; he was notorious for his dislike of-"

Snarf uneasily hit the remote again and sighed when the New Years' Celebration finally came on. Lion-O scratched between his ears, head in a rush.

"Do you think…the press will bother her? It doesn't have anything to do with the company, it's all gossip. So would they do that?" Lion-O had to ask, and as soon as the words left his mouth he knew he was going to regret them.

"Who knows? You should've thought about that before." Tygra's tone was frosty, and Lion-O just stroked under Snarf's chin as the creature tilted back his head.

"How could I have known what would happen?" Tygra breathed out, and a small growl laced the breath.

"Lion-O, I know you _rarely _paid attention to Dad, but he always used to tell us that there were a thousand things you had to consider when attending a public event. This was Mumm-Ra's gala and you made a scene; you really think every news reporter in town wasn't there to see it? And if there's one thing tabloids eat up, it's relationship drama. You shouldn't have asked her to it if you planned on making an idiot out of yourself."

Lion-O felt heat rush through him, and his jaw stiffened as he looked at his brother. "Two things. One; I didn't _plan_ on making an idiot out of myself. I wanted to help that guy, and I know I looked like an idiot doing it. I don't care. I couldn't have done anything else." Tygra snorted. Lion-O tried not to sound prim or snarly – neither extreme would help, would it? – when he added, "And second, I didn't ask her. She asked me."

The silence was heavy, painful. Lion-O bit the tip of his tongue; that had been too far. But did he have it in him to apologize? Looking deep down he didn't find that capacity this time around, but he did say, "You kept assuming I asked her right after you asked her out and I didn't. I don't know if she meant it to be a friend thing at the gala at first or not. I just know what things are now."

Tygra did not look at him, nor did he look at the television, eyes resting just above it. Snarf looked from one cat to the other openly. "…Which one of you initiated the kiss?"

"Huh?"

Tygra's voice was smooth, calm. Just like his pale face. "You heard. No way _you'd_ miss out on an opportunity like that."

Lion-O bristled, shivering with anger. What was Tygra basing that idea on? His own dislike of Lion-O? Lion-O had never kissed or been kissed until that night. Then again, Tygra had never really exhibited any interest in who Lion-O was or what went on in his life anyway. "I initiated. We met in the middle."

"Does it occur to you she felt obligated to kiss you because of that? Maybe she felt pressured?"

Snarf shifted in Lion-O's lap and turned up the television a little. Lion-O watched the announcer talk about the glittering ball high in the sky, and how it would drop in a couple of hours and said, "She wouldn't have kissed me if she didn't want to. And when we went out after that, she held my paw of her own choice. If she doesn't want to do something, I don't think anyone could convince her to do it."

The announcer took a sip of champagne, and Lion-O didn't look at Tygra when his brother said, "Even so. Did it occur to you that she might do that to spare your feelings?"

_Again with the patronizing. _Lion-O stroked Snarf, heat collecting in his face. The slight, needling implication was stinging. "No. I just kind of assumed that she liked me back when she kissed me. I didn't think there was some kind of mental debate going on."

"People are complicated Lion-O. Well, _normal_ people." Snarf bristled at that but Lion-O just looked at Tygra, eyes narrowing.

"Well, pardon me for assuming. I suppose you're right, this might be some misunderstanding. But last I checked, if a girl held your paw, went out with you, and _kissed_ you – because _she _wanted to, for whatever reason, and did it again on later dates – it was kind of safe to assume she liked you back. No matter how complicated they are. Darn my simple, childish mind."

Tygra's eyes glittered. Lion-O's jaw set. Right now – when Dad had just died and emotions were high anyway – was not the time to deal with this. But even so, something in his blood was up, running thin, and everything was about to set him off.

"Look. Can we just talk about something else? This is only making us mad," Lion-O said, fighting his temper as best he could and shifting his gaze to Snarf.

"I've got a better idea. Let's do what we did when we fought around Dad; one of us will storm off to his room in a huff to read kids' books to make himself feel better, and one of us will do something productive with his time. Because that one doesn't need therapeutic nonsense to get over himself," Tygra purred.

Lion-O snarled. Audibly. Tygra was suddenly a little tenser, aware, and Snarf cringed. "What is it with you? All you're doing is baiting me! Is it too much to ask that we just sit here and get along for five minutes? Because last I checked, we're all we've got." Lion-O let Snarf clamber onto his shoulder. "I really don't want to fight. But how are we supposed to tolerate each other if this keeps going?"

"I can hardly tolerate you on a good day, Lion-O. Why do you think that, given all that's happened, I have any interest in playing nice? I'm angry, I'm upset, and frankly, I think you're an idiot. And the whole of Thunder Enterprises is in your paws. It scares me to think you're going to ruin in a few months what your ancestors have worked for generations to build." The deadly beauty of his brother's icy face only deepened when he growled. "Dad put his blood and soul into this company to improve on what was here. If you screw up, the consequences aren't yours alone to bear."

_You don't think I know that? _Lion-O wanted to scream. _You don't think I know this is my path, and if I do one whisker-flipping thing wrong, it could mean everything is ruined? You think that, if I had a choice, I wouldn't give this job to you, because you obviously want it so bad? If I could, I'd give it up, I'd go back to Tretierra-_

_No. You wouldn't. That's not how it works. You care about the company, even if you don't want it. And Dad would expect nothing less from you._ Lion-O detested the new thoughts, and the way they cleaved straight through the angry, repulsed part of him that wanted to _run_, run and never come back.

"I know that. I'm going to do my best."

Tygra snorted and stood up. "That's just it, Lion-O. Your 'best' won't impress anybody." Lion-O's eyes followed him as he crossed the room and headed into the hall.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know. Don't wait up. I might not come back tonight." Lion-O hopped up, nearly dislodging Snarf as he tossed the blanket back onto the couch.

"Can't you at least give me a general idea? And what kind of place will be open all night?" Lion-O asked peevishly. Tygra rolled his eyes.

"I don't know. Oh, wait; it's New Years' Eve, so…_everywhere_," he spat. Lion-O felt his face flush from humiliation.

"Okay, sorry. I forgot. But...don't drink a lot. I mean, I know you don't usually, but just because it's New Years' Eve, there'll be a lot of alcohol. So don't drive if you do. And…come home before one. Please?"

Tygra pulled his jacket from the rack and made a derisive noise. "Who exactly do you think you are? _Dad_? Quit trying to act mature, Lion-O. You've always been immature and you're always _going _to be immature." Giving Lion-O a look, he then said, "Now if you'll excuse me, your holiness, I'm going out with the rest of the sinners to carouse."

Fury mingled with his concern, and his voice was loud as he said, "That's not what I meant-!"

The door slammed in his face before he could finish. Snarf blew a raspberry after Tygra, tiny face puckered in anger. But Lion-O just gazed after him and hoped Tygra would remember to call the home phone if something happened because he still hadn't found his cell.

* * *

><p>At eleven thirty the phone rang and Lion-O nearly broke his nose getting to it. Running face first into a closed door probably looked as stupid as it sounded, and he was almost glad Tygra wasn't there to witness it. Nursing his nose, Lion-O tried not to sound nasally when he picked up the phone. "Hello? Tygra?"<p>

There was a pause. "Actually, no. Mr. Rey, you sound…congested."

Lion-O frowned. That voice was familiar. "Pumyra?" She sounded more feminine on the phone.

"Yes. Sorry to call so late, but I thought you should know that attempts to pry into yours and Mr. Tygra Rey's personal lives have already started, and I wanted to know if you wanted me to do something about it."

He gingerly took a tissue from the box on the stand by the sofa and nursed his nose. Whiskers, bleeding. Snarf scurried into the kitchen as Lion-O said, "Uh…I'm sorry, what? Who's doing what now?"

Pumyra didn't handle her own impatience very well, but Lion-O's nose was throbbing too much to get annoyed at her clipped tone. "Look, some woman named Lynxana Catus has a few pictures of you from something that went on up at Tretierra, and she jabbered about you and your brother for about twenty minutes(2)."

"I might have seen a little of that actually." He turned away from the phone and sniffed. He could breathe. "Dark mane, spotted? Kind of smarmy?"

"Precisely. Are you really seeing some cheetah up there?"

Lion-O sighed and buried his face in his paw. "Yes."

"Hm. That complicates things." Something on Pumyra's end crinkled and he heard her mutter, "Yes you can pull the cracker now. No, it's not really going to blow up(3)." A pause. "All right I'll tell him. Bengali wishes you a Happy New Year."

"Thanks, him too. What did she say? I turned it off after a couple minutes," Lion-O said. "Did she mention Cheetara by name?"

"I didn't hear her say that name. And we never got a frontal picture of the cheetah. I'm more concerned about the fact that she said to keep tuning in for more information." Pumyra hesitated. "No Bengali, I don't think Mr. Tygra Rey is there. I think it's just Lion-O."

"Snarf's here," Lion-O said, mind fixing on what she'd said. "Lynxana said to watch more shows in the following weeks?"

"Yes. That's bothersome too. It sounds as if they're going to try to interview you."

Lion-O sat down on the couch. Snarf clambered back into his lap, trying to stay awake long enough to see the ball drop. "I'm going to be in Tretierra though. I guess they're out of luck."

Pumyra didn't say anything, presumably mulling this over. "I suppose. That far away, I don't know if people will be terribly interested in Thunder Enterprises. We're only located in Pantherle with some production on the east coast and out west. Up north there's not much interest…"

Lion-O frowned. "Something else wrong?"

"Quite. She happened to say a few disparaging things about your father."

At this he felt angry. "Like what?"

"Comments about the company's hiring of mainly cats in its history, Mr. Rey's choice in company. Namely that he didn't have many lizard friends or non-feline friends in general. She seemed to be contrasting him with you for the most part."

Lion-O didn't know what to think about that. True, anybody saying anything bad about Dad made him feel violent, but all the same…Dad had been prejudiced. Not to the point of hating other species, but he had definitely favored cats in every capacity. But the idea that this woman had said anything about him-

He sighed. "Okay. What do you want me to do exactly?"

"Nothing at the moment. There's nothing _to _do. Legally." She added this as an afterthought, which kind of creeped him out. "I dealt with a similar situation two years ago with a firm called LunaTech."

Remembering the newspaper clipping, Lion-O gave the phone a look. "Huh? But they got sued for illegal dealings…didn't they?"

"Who do you think found out about the illegal dealings and got the information to the Plundarr Republic police force?" Pumyra stated. Lion-O's stomach turned.

"It sounds kind of ruthless is all. I mean, freedom of speech and stuff."

"And I quote: 'Thunder Enterprises is just another example of a money-mongering company intent on wringing every red cent out of the people of Pantherle. With any luck LunaTech will rise to the occasion and quash this greedy troll of a business, and the purist lion Claudus that's put himself smugly on top of the pyramid." Pumyra's voice was cold. "I nailed them on charges of dishonest statistics and twisting the truth. And it turns out they were using under the table deals to get stolen materials."

Lion-O saw Snarf wince in his lap. He'd heard every word. "Did you use underhanded methods to get this information?"

"If necessary, that's what I do."

"Dad okayed this? He was all right with you doing illegal things?" Lion-O's heart hurt and his anger was giving was to something else, something…sad. Perhaps he was a little scared of finding out some things he would rather not have known.

"If the situation required it. Usually things were clean. But I'm not one to worry about getting my paws dirty."

Lion-O sat there, trying to figure out his mixed muddle of emotions. "I…I don't know. Lynxana didn't say anything as bad as all that, did she?"

A reluctant pause made him set his jaw. "No. Nothing I can go after. She may get bored and leave the company alone. But I'm going to warn you that eventually you'll have to deal with a situation like this. Otherwise the company will be trashed in the media."

He chewed his lip, the television flashing with lights and celebrities. "I don't understand what I can do about that. Don't they legally have the right to that?"

"They have to right to say what they please until they feed the general public blatant lies. It only takes a few careless words for them to get into trouble." Pumyra sounded impatient again. "Look, I'm going to dig into PENN. That's the network reporting like this. Everyone else is just reporting on the company with neutrality. They're the ones I see as a problem. If I find anything I'll call you, in case it turns out the information is needed."

"Okay. If you want." Lion-O already felt something in him resolving to just ignore everything they said and did. Thunder Enterprises and the people at it would behave with dignity and prove them wrong. And that was that. Nothing else. Right?

"…Fine. Call me if you hear anything slanderous or if you need assistance with something Mr. Rey." The line went off, and Lion-O got the feeling that Pumyra was rather disgusted at something.

"Sorry," he said into the mouthpiece. "I'm just not that cutthroat." The hum of the phone was his only answer.

The ball dropped half an hour later and Lion-O watched the confetti fly on screen. The lights flashed and the couples embraced and kissed. A lonely pang hit him in the heart as he thought of Cheetara. Was she watching right now? Was she asleep, or trying to get the kittens to bed? Were they amped up on sugary fizzy drinks since he knew Jaga and Cheetara didn't drink and would never let them near alcohol even if they did?

He tried calling Tygra at one. Then again at one-thirty. He heard the voicemail message each time. Snarf fell asleep on the couch and Lion-O put a blanket over him, unable to sit still. He paced back and forth across the floor, calling again at three-thirty.

His uneasy worry from before returned, and it was mixed with an unhealthy dose of anger. Tygra had the gall to lecture him about wandering around on his own and then left without calling for hours on end? At least _he'd _only been gone for an hour in the daytime.

At last he curled up on the seat of the couch, head resting on Snarf, and dozed with the cordless phone by his ear.

The next thing he knew the sound of the lock of the apartment door was waking him up, and deft, quiet footsteps headed down the hall, never stopping at the living room. He sat up and peered into the hallway. Then he slid off the couch without waking Snarf.

Lion-O listened as he crept towards the hall and then the kitchen as he heard the click of claws; it was Tygra in the kitchen. His jacket was hanging on the rack. Lion-O's ire still rankled, and he crossed his arms, leaning on the wall. It was early in the morning and Tygra was back at last, and Lion-O's blood was steaming. His fear had eroded, giving way to a well and truly cheesed off, sleep-deprived cat.

_He's out until five in the morning and doesn't answer my calls? Which one of us is the 'irresponsible' one now?_

The faucet switched on and water blasted into the sink. He heard the splashing of his brother rinsing his face off before the sound disappeared and there was relative silence.

When he heard a sniff, Lion-O felt the anger falter. Uncrossing his arms, he stepped down the stairway, across the hall. Peeping in, he spied his brother. His blood gradually cooled a couple degrees, and he felt the pulse of a stress headache molding in the back of his skull. And his eyes burned with tiredness.

Tygra rarely cried. If he did cry, he didn't do it in front of people. He was leaning over the sink, elbows on the counter, forehead in one paw while the other dangled above the draining water. Again he sniffed, and Lion-O cautiously stepped onto the tile floor, feet quiet. Not quiet enough; Tygra's head jerked up and he turned for a fraction of a second, meeting Lion-O's gaze with a rather red one of his own. Wet patches marked his white face where water had streaked down and matted his fur.

Lion-O lowered his gaze. Tygra turned again and his back seemed to stiffen as he used one of the hand towels by the sink to dry his face. "Enjoying the show?"

His eyes felt suddenly heavy, sleepy, and Lion-O hesitantly drew toward Tygra, daring to extend a paw to touch his shoulder. Tygra threw an arm out violently, and Lion-O pulled his paw back, fingers stinging with the impact. After about five seconds he repeated the motion, and his paw rested on Tygra's shoulder for about three seconds before his brother roughly shrugged him off.

Was it possible to hate someone and love them at the same time?

"I don't need your pity."

Lion-O grunted. "It's not pity. I'm just trying to help."

"I thought you'd be mad."

"I am. I'll yell at you later."

Tygra snorted and rolled up the towel, turning to look at him. Lion-O couldn't catch the smell of liquor. Not that that meant anything; Lion-O didn't know what alcohol smelled like. Perhaps he'd listened to Lion-O's plea. All the same, Tygra averted his gaze. "Quit it."

"What am I doing _now_?"

Tygra growled, and Lion-O stopped ducking to try to meet his brother's eye. "You just…you look…ugh, stop looking at me."

Lion-O's jaw set. "I look crappy when you come back at five in the morning and I've been waiting half the night to make sure you got in okay? You're looking kind of rough yourself. Why the heck didn't you answer? I tried calling three times-"

"You look like Mom." Tygra's sharp response drew a knife across his thoughts, silencing him. Eyelids flickering in a quick roll, Tygra crossed his arms and said, bluntly, "You _sound_ like her too. Like the time I ran too far in the playground and she lost sight of me and freaked out. Then she told me I couldn't ever go that far from her again because it scared her to think something might happen to me. And I know that you probably don't like the fact that you look like a girl, but you look almost exactly like her. So quit harping at me. You're making it worse."

Lion-O tried to remember what Mom looked like when she was scolding. He vaguely remembered that her brows would angle dangerously and her lip would set, but at the end her face would soften again. "…So what did you do?"

"Nothing. I watched the ball drop on the television in a bar restaurant. And I listened to people talk. They're almost amusing when they're inebriated off their nut. A glass of champagne, in case you were wondering. Not enough to get drunk. Got sentimental on it." He carried the towel with him toward the laundry hamper and Lion-O followed. "If you ever try to tell me when to come in again, I'll beat you. I'm not kidding." Tygra tossed the towel and he looked angry again. "I don't know where you get off thinking you can tell me when to come in like some little kid. Just because you're the boss of the company doesn't mean you're myboss of my personal life."

Lion-O just stood there in his pajamas for a minute, realizing how very juvenile he probably looked. But when Tygra turned to head to his room, Lion-O asked, "Do you have any idea how many reports are already coming in about fatalities in accidents?"

Tygra half-rolled his eyes and Lion-O shook his head. "Six people have been killed because somebody wasn't paying attention on the road, or got drunk and drove. I was _worried _about you."

"Don't bother worrying. I know what I'm doing."

Lion-O's reaction was an odd one. Mirth bubbled in his throat and he laughed. Tygra gave him a weird look and almost seemed to flinch at the noise. It was a little crazy sounding. "Oh. Okay. Because that made _so _much sense, wandering around in the middle of the night. You get to chew me out because I wander off on my own for an hour in the daytime, but you're anywhere in Pantherle for hours at night and you expect me not to freak?"

Expressionless, Tygra said, "That's different-"

"_It is not!_" he screamed. Snarf jolted awake on the couch and yowled as he fell onto the floor. "You're such a hypocrite!"

Snarf squealed in protest, wriggling out of the blanket and stomping up to the two of them. Lion-O and Tygra ignored him. "If I were as brainless as you then yes, I'd be a hypocrite," Tygra retorted. "The thing is, I have some sense. And don't wander off alone."

"Just into a bar in the dead of night! Did you drive home?"

"One drink doesn't incapacitate every driver Lion-O. I can hold a glass. You probably couldn't…"

Lion-O's paws balled into fists and he stamped one foot. He must have looked childish. "Buzzed driving isn't better! What if you'd gotten into an accident? You could've called; I would've picked you up!"

"With what car? And as I recall, Dad was always white as paper whenever you practiced driving," Tygra said snidely. "You never did figure out the basic mechanics-"

"You're always doing that!" Lion-O screamed. Their voices were too loud and he saw tired irritation flit across Tygra's face. "Every time I say something, you always come back with an insult! It doesn't matter what I'm saying, you're always calling me an idiot or saying I suck! Is it impossible for us to just coexist in the same apartment, or are we-!"

Tygra smacked him in the jaw. It was with his palm but it stung, and Lion-O felt blood on his lip where one tooth knocked against his skin. He stopped talking, gaping before instinctually pulling back a fist.

Snarf screeched. Tygra easily caught the blow, fingers tightening around Lion-O's fist and digging in with his claws. His expression was even, weary, and Lion-O fought to keep his face still when his brother grip grew tighter. "Shut up. I'm going to bed. I'm too tired to put up with your nonsense right now." He twisted Lion-O's arm and moved past him, slamming his door shut in Lion-O's face.

Somebody from the floor below them banged on the wall. "It's five in the morning! Shut up!" they roared.

Lion-O touched his lower lip and felt the blood, bright red against his fingers when he drew them away. The fact that he'd been smacked didn't bother him too much, even though his lip was starting to throb. He wondered if Tygra had really only had one glass as Snarf got up and scurried to his feet, meowing and squalling in anger.

He was too tired to pursue it. Lion-O went and washed his face and put a cool cloth against his sore lip until the bleeding and pounding stopped. Then he went to bed and hoped tomorrow evening came quickly.

* * *

><p>He woke up with sunlight blazing into his room and Snarf curled by his chest. Lion-O sat up and squinted at his clock – two in the afternoon.<p>

Head pounding and lip stinging, Lion-O unsteadily got out of bed and checked his packs; clothes, gifts, books…he went to brush his teeth before tucking his toothbrush into his case.

The plane left at six. He'd have to get there at four to get through security, particularly with the city as uneasy as it was. Pantherle had always had a low crime rate, and while shootings were not as rare as one might like, a public figure being killed had thrown fear into everyone.

_Am I putting them in danger?_ Lion-O zipped his suitcase shut and headed back to the bathroom, grabbing a towel from the dryer on his way. He stripped off his pajamas and turned on the shower, letting the steam and hot water wake him up and ease his headache.

The thought that he'd managed to shove aside for the past few days had risen up again, in spite of the quiet. Nobody had attacked Tygra last night, nor Lion-O when he was alone in the apartment. That soothed him.

_I said I won't live in fear. I won't let whoever killed Dad make me a coward,_ he raged inwardly. He folded his arms around himself for a second, suddenly cold. The hot water matted his fur and mane, and he was content to listen to the rattle of the water for a little bit before washing. It sounded like a rainmaker; Mom and Dad had made them out of paper towel rolls and blunted toothpicks stuck through, filling them with uncooked rice. Then Mom helped them wrap the tubes in shiny paper and for hours he and Tygra had been enchanted by the mystical rattle. Mom had picked up first one cub then the other, Dad shaking the rainmakers to the beat she dictated so should dance with them.

Lion-O realized his eyes were shut so hard that they were aching and he opened them a smidge. The water instantly muddled them and blurred the world. He rubbed his fingers over his eyes and washed his mane and rinsed his fur once more before shutting off the water and climbing out.

A swift drying and mane-combing later, Lion-O found some clean jeans and a sweater and reluctantly headed downstairs.

Tygra looked up from a cup of something – tea, maybe. "I was starting to think you were never going to get up." Lion-O detected a headache in his brother and evasively headed the fridge to find something to take with an aspirin. "So, you still going?"

"Yeah." He took out the milk and heard Snarf's little feet scrabbling on the tile. He poured a cup and set it on the floor for Snarf and then poured his own mug.

"I still think it's dangerous." Lion-O gave him a look.

"Okay, I'll just go wandering bars at night then. That's so much smarter." Tygra's fur lifted as if he were going to hiss but he merely left the room, leaving Lion-O to down his aspirin and milk.

Two hours flowed by like melted chocolate. Slow and almost a little unbelievable, time just seemed thick as he wandered the apartment and checked and rechecked his pack. Multiple times he was struck by doubt – _will I be putting them in danger?_ – and multiple times he had quash it, feeling very selfish about it.

Leaving Tygra alone was another thing that wasn't sitting well. Lion-O didn't think he could stand being near his brother for another day the way they both felt. Maybe if he saw Jaga and the kittens and Cheetara again, things would be better. Maybe he'd feel safe and the thick, boiling knot in his chest would ease.

Maybe he'd finally just cry and find some peace.

But all the same, even though he knew Tygra could take care of himself – and he'd sooner run outside in nothing but his boxers than stay with him without reprieve – Lion-O didn't want him to be completely alone in the big, quiet apartment.

"Snarf." Lion-O paused and knelt to gather Snarf into his arms, rubbing his back and letting Snarf nuzzle his neck. "Sna-Snarf?"

Lion-O shrugged. "Just thinking. I wish Tygra was coming. I'd feel better knowing he wasn't staying alone."

Snarf's tail swayed and he curled against Lion-O's front. "Snarf. Snarf-snarf."

Paw stilling on the fluffy back, Lion-O felt curiously warm. "What do you mean you'll 'stay here and watch after Tygra?' Don't you want to see the kittens?"

Snarf shrugged and meowed again. The gist was something like, "Sure. But I think you need time with them to yourself. Cheetara especially. You've been in the most depressed funk I've ever seen, and I think they'll help you start healing. They'd help Tygra too if he weren't too proud. But if you're worried about him the whole time, you won't feel better. And anyway, if I have to get back in that carrier again, I'm gonna poop in it just from nerves."

It was very deep and interesting until that last part. Lion-O sighed. "Thanks Snarf. I really owe you one." He hugged Snarf and couldn't help but press his lips to Snarf's head like a little boy kisses a pet.

"If I might interrupt this moment?" Tygra asked wryly. Lion-O let Snarf hop down.

"Snarf wants to stay here. He doesn't want to get in his carrier. Will you feed him while I'm gone?"

Tygra shrugged. "Sure. He'll be better company than you."

Snarf sighed. "I'm already wondering what I've gotten myself into."

Lion-O noted that Tygra looked gruff and annoyed and a little embarrassed all at once. "You want me to take the presents you got them to Tretierra or don't you?" he asked pointedly.

Without a word Tygra set an extra pack down. It was a fair size, and Lion-O eyed it. "Oh. This one," Tygra said, unzipping the top and showing him a beautifully wrapped box the size of an open paw, "is Cheetara's. It's kind of delicate, so don't drop the pack." The wrapping paper was shiny silver and the bow was gold, and Lion-O almost envied how perfectly his brother had folded and taped the paper around the box.

"Okay." The phone rang, making both of them jump. Their eyes met and Tygra crossed the sitting room to get to the phone.

"Hello? Ms. Verus." His brows furrowed. "Slow down, I can't understand you. What do you-?"

He grew silent and Lion-O realized distantly that he'd have to leave in five minutes to get to the airport and get through security on time. "You're kidding. You're serious? Really? They're not sure…? When would they tell us?"

Lion-O gave Snarf a farewell stroke along his back. Snarf patted his paw. "Fine. All right. In a couple days. Fine. I'll be ready to talk to him whenever the police call. But why would he…?"

He paused again. "All right. Yes, thank you. I'll tell him." With that he hung up. When he turned to look at Lion-O his face was flushed and his pupils were dancing with a fierce, bright light. "One of Pumyra's contacts called her. She thinks the police have the lizard that killed Dad."

Lion-O felt a cold jolt of shock run through him. His heart snarled, and the almost cruel joy in him was spiny. "You're kidding."

Tygra shook his head. "Sounds like he turned himself in. Can you believe it?" He slammed paw against the table next to a phone. "Do you know what this means?"

_We have the murderer. He'll be in jail at the very least, probably for life. Justice will be done-_

Another though stirred in the back of his head. _Nobody will follow you to Tretierra to hurt the Cleras. It's safe to go now_.

All his thoughts of revenge and hate buckled. "How long will it take them to call us?"

Tygra was a little twitchy, pacing back and forth. "It could be a few days, it could be a week. We weren't witnesses so they wouldn't need us to identify him. They'll probably cross-examine what he tells them with what witnesses have in the police reports, get somebody that was there to try to name him as the gunman."

Lion-O watched his brother prowl across the room. Justice was pounding in him, but at the same time he glanced down and aside, uncomfortably. "Why would he come clean and admit he did it?"

"How should I know?" Tygra snapped. "The police will figure that out, and we'll hear what they have to say in a few days."

Lion-O blinked and glanced down at his case. Snarf pushed at his ankle and Tygra followed Lion-O's gaze. "Are you…you're still thinking about going?" Disbelief colored his voice.

Defensively, Lion-O picked up the case. "The guy's in custody. He can't follow me or hurt Cheetara and the others. Why _wouldn't _I go now?"

Tygra's lips were parted, as if in shock. "…Because we have him. We have Dad's murderer." He said this as if accusing Lion-O.

"And?" Lion-O suddenly felt brutal, angry. "What can we do? We know he'll be put in prison. He'll still be here when I get back. We're not witnesses, so we can't identify him. Any trial they have would be in weeks if not months."

Tygra just looked at him as if he didn't believe a word. Livid fury was written in the hard lines of his face. "To leave right now…"

He snarled, lips pulling back from his teeth. "I'm beginning to wonder if you even care about the fact that Dad was killed."

Lion-O snarled in turn and Snarf flinched, scurrying to the couch so he could hop onto the seats and hide behind the armrest. "What do you think I've been thinking about all this time? But there's nothing we can do right now! And I promised the kittens and Jaga and Cheetara I would visit! What am I supposed to do, make them suffer because I have to have revenge right now?" He made to go to the door but found Tygra standing in his was, glaring at him.

"You don't want them to suffer, but you're going back in the crappy mood you're in?"

Lion-O, fuming, tried to push past Tygra. A stupid move; Tygra grabbed his forearm and brought it up so it was vertical. "No. You're going to hear what I have to say." It took a few seconds of fruitless squirming, but Lion-O finally stopped trying to escape. "Maybe you and Cheetara are dating. Maybe you're not. It doesn't really matter at this point. Because you know as well as I do that you'll never be able to go visit. The next two years at least are going to be rough at best." His eyes narrowed. "If you are dating Cheetara, are you going to try to tie to you? Considering you'll never be there?"

"What?" Lion-O dropped his case.

Tygra looked tense. He released his brother's arm and Lion-O felt the place where his fingers had dug in burning. "Look, I've been in a couple of relationships. And there's one thing I know; long-distance never works out. And it's usually the girl that ends up feeling most heartbroken by it. Cheetara is loyal, and I could see her feeling obligated to keep to this relationship if she felt like poor little Lion-O's heart would be busted by her moving on."

Lion-O had thought of that. He'd thought of a lot of things. But to hear Tygra say this was worst, hit hardest. Would Cheetara still be interested in dating if they were apart for months at a time? Would it break her heart?

"It all boils down to what's more important to you; her happiness or yours." Tygra glowered at him. "Maybe _you'll _be content with this, but she might not be. It's not only Dad's killer that's making me wonder if you're just being selfish."

Lion-O picked up both packs slowly. "Do you care so much about her happiness, or is also because some part of you, deep down, wants to see me lose the person that's made me happiest?" he asked finally.

Tygra was speechless for a second, as if Lion-O had slapped him. His face seemed young then. Maybe guilty, maybe? Then he recovered and looked cold once more. "'I care for her."

"I know that. But can you honestly say that there's not a big part of you hoping that, if you and she aren't meant to be, neither are she and I? Because you can't stand to 'lose' to me?" Lion-O had to leave to catch his flight. But he wasn't leaving without getting this out. "Because you know that you can't go see her any more than I can over the months. You and I are stuck with each other and the company. So I know you're not trying to break us up for that reason."

"I'm not going _today_ and making all this harder for her and those kids like someone else I know. I care about them."

Lion-O picked up his suitcase. "Weren't you listening? I know you care about them. I do too. My only question is whether or not you also have an ulterior motive." He stepped past his brother before adding, "Whether you believe it or not, _her_ happiness is what I'm concerned about. If she wants to break it off…I'll do that. Maybe you're right. It would hurt less if we broke up now than if we waited until later."

He didn't stand any longer, and he didn't try to give his brother some affectionate gesture goodbye, other than saying, "I'll tell them you say Merry Christmas."

Snarf meowed a meek farewell from side of the couch and waving at him. Lion-O mimicked his wave, looked at his brother and said, finally, "…Love you."

It was awkward and hard and tasted funny to say it. And his tone kind of sounded more like, "I care but I'd kind of like to not see you for about six months."

Tygra turned around and left the room without a word. Lion-O watched him go before continuing out the door and shutting it with a click.

* * *

><p>Tygra had spoken the truth to Kit; he did have a meeting after the first. However, he had not specified what kind it was, nor with whom.<p>

The café he visited for said meeting had long been a place he and Dad had frequented. They made good coffee, and it was a pristinely clean place. Lizards tended to avoid it – the café was kept chilly and they tended to feel unwelcome with the majority cat clientele – and it was white and neat. The barista recognized him, a pretty Siamese with a dark face and soft blue eyes. She smiled when she took his order and got it to him in double time. He lifted it in her direction as if say "cheers" and took it outside, opening the black plastic to cool it.

The freezing rain was starting to slow as he waited under the overhang, looking up at the shiny glass windows of the buildings. It felt wrong to be here without Dad.

He saw the person he was waiting for on the sidewalk across the street. Wary and a little nervous, Tygra thought of what the cat had done and wondered what he could possibly have to say.

What did one say to friends that had been betrayed?

Grune made it under the overhang and sighed. "Cold out here. You should've waited inside."

Tygra sipped at the drink. "Didn't feel like sitting in there on my own. I'd either come with Dad or you. Not by myself."

"True. Something about habits changing that just feels wrong." Grune's jacket was dripping and dark, and rain was buried in his beard and mane. "It felt that way when I stopped going into Thunder Enterprises' production center on the east coast. And it felt that way when I walked out of Claudus' office the day I quite."

"Why?" Tygra's bark was accompanied with the snap of his head upward, teeth bared. "Why did you quit? Why did you call me, now, and-!"

He swallowed his words and stared at the steam of his coffee cup. Grune's face was quiet, looking at him with something sad. "I figured I owed you an explanation. That's why I called you. And I wanted to see how you were doing. I'm sorry about Claudus."

Tygra's eyes were heavy over the steam. The freezing rain clattered overhead and he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"It's just been a long few weeks."

He still didn't really consider Grune a traitor. Well…maybe. Everything dealing with Grune and Dad was mixed up in his head, a twisted mess of memories and emotions and things he thought were true. Even so, he would not ordinarily have let him get close after the antics he'd pulled. But he was tired, and it actually felt soothing when Grune laid a paw on his shoulder, arm across his back. He was warm through the jacket, and Tygra lowered his eyes.

It felt like Dad.

"I'm sorry for the misery you're going through, Tygra. I really am. This…would all be so much easier if Lion-O wasn't the one taking over," Grune murmured. "People aren't going to accept mediocrity from the new head of Thunder Enterprises. They're upset and shaken. They'll want somebody decisive, take-charge. Somebody who knows the value of diplomacy in a business."

Tygra took a drink and his irises rolled to eye Grune, just a little suspicious. "We've had this talk before. Or something like it."

"Anything worth saying is worth saying twice." Grune really did look concerned, and he gestured to the door. "Come on, let's talk. I need to discuss a few things with you, and you'll catch your death out here."

"It doesn't matter how many times we say it. Lion-O's in charge. Not me." Tygra finished the cup and made a face at the taste of the bitter last drink. "That's the way Dad wanted it."

Even so, he entered the café again with Grune, warmth making his numb face hot. "Talking can't hurt. And it's not just about that. We have some catching up to do. Didn't you want that explanation," he added. Tygra was awake then, searching the dark eyes.

"About why you…quit on Dad?"

"About why I simply had to part ways with Thunder Enterprises." The gentle note of correction did not rouse his suspicion, nor his anger. Not just yet. He waited quietly as Grune ordered a coffee and then directed him to one of the booths, feeling the older cat's eyes resting on his back.

"So. The succession date is coming up," Grune said. He idly stirred his cup and Tygra shrugged one shoulder.

"Later in January. Lion-O's already technically the boss, the board just has to approve. It's a formality."

"And how do you feel about that?" Grune asked. He sipped at his cup and sighed over the steam.

Tygra shrugged again, crossing his arms and leaning back against the seat. "The same way I've felt since I first figured out that I couldn't succeed Dad. Some things don't change."

"Ain't it the truth. I'm surprised you didn't kick up a bit of a fuss. I mean, there are at least as many people muttering that you should take over as think he should inherit. Probably a lot more for you."

Scanning the café, Tygra shut his eyes. "It's in Dad's will for Lion-O to inherit. He went along with tradition. For his sake I'm willing to do the same." _Maybe. If Lion-O screws things up though…who knows?_

Grune looked sympathetic. "You're a better cat than I, Tygra. I mean, all you've had to put up with lately. The company's ripped out of your paws by your kid brother, and…well, I don't know if he's actually going out with Cheetara Clera or not."

Tygra's face darkened. His heart seemed to kick at his ribs. "He said they're together."

"He did mention it then."

The clinks and voices of the café sounded hollow and loud, echoing as he lowered his paws from his chin to the table. "…Yeah. He did."

"Well, I saw them together at Mumm-Ra's gala, and they certainly seemed to be comfortable with holding paws and such. He insisted they came as friends, but…" Grune said, shrugging. "It struck me as strange. After all, you mentioned her to me months ago."

Tygra stared into the table, eyes following the gleam of the lights and listening to the faint click of his claws pressing into the surface. "Yeah. I did, didn't I?" he muttered. The blood was leaving his lips, and he couldn't decide in that moment if he was furious or…

Grune was watching him closely, brow creasing. "I couldn't sworn you said you were going to ask her to Tygus University's Winter Festival," he mused. "That's what you said in October, isn't it?"

"I asked after Thanksgiving. She said she was going to the gala to find out more about Mumm-Ra. She didn't mention anything about Lion-O going with her." His paws were taut, tendons visible.

"Hm. Maybe he asked her after you left. Did he know you'd asked her out?"

"No. I don't think so." Tygra had to lift his paws off the table; they would make marks if he didn't. "Maybe he _did_ ask her after I left. He didn't get on the bus with me, and we were heading the same way. I mean, he said she asked him, but…"

Grune looked as skeptical as Tygra felt. "Sounds pretty shifty to me. Then again, he's always skulked around, hasn't he? Not terribly sociable. I have to ask, though," Grune added, lowering his voice and leaning in. "Is he a lizard lover? Because he asked Mumm-Ra not to fire a lizard at the gala because of an accident. It just seemed odd to me that he'd do that." Political correctness had no place between friends.

Tygra's mind heaved back to the conversation at paw, rather than the thought of Lion-O and Cheetara. Of Lion-O being wrapped in her arms and smirking when she couldn't see. "Sure. I don't know. He's never had a problem with them, not like me or Dad. It wouldn't surprise me at all if he rubbed shoulders with some up in Tretierra."

He'd never been comfortable around lizards; probably something he'd picked up from Dad. Something about them was just crawly and slimy, and he'd never met one he'd liked. Lion-O had once brought home a friend in elementary school – a lime green iguana with a funny crest – and it had been so awkward having him in the house that the reptile called his mother to pick him up before dinner, the discomfort of not-belonging making him nervous.

_"Why were you so weird around Iguo? He's really nice, and he likes to play checkers! Nobody else in my grade likes to play that but him! And he said he doesn't want to come over again!" Lion-O had burst into tears and it had been hard to explain the distant derision he felt, even at nine._

He didn't like to think of himself as bigoted or prejudiced. But he simply didn't like lizards. Dad had never been fully comfortable around them and Tygra had picked up on that. People who were different were just…different. He didn't know how to react to them, and the uncertainty hardened into dislike as the years went on.

Lion-O took after Mom. She had always been open to other people, and Lion-O had inherited it with an unhealthy dose of naiveté to make things harder.

Something in him coiled and asked softly, _Is that a crime? Believing in the best of people and loving one's enemies? It takes courage, perhaps more than you have…_

"Did he embarrass himself?"

"Only in front of the whole gathering," Grune said. Tygra growled, pressing his forehead into one paw.

"When is he going to learn that his actions have consequences, and that he can't just run around making an idiot of himself in public? The reputation of Thunder Enterprises is on his shoulders, and if he does something, it reflects on the entire company!"

Grune finished his coffee and just shook his head. "Spoken like a true CEO, kid. I don't know what he was thinking." His dark eyes darted around the rim of the cup, observing the pattern on it. "Maybe he wanted to impress Cheetara."

Again Tygra's chest tightened and something inside it went blacker. "…That would make perfect sense. Trying to show her he's the 'nice guy' compared to 'evil Tygra,' I'm _sure_."

_Are you really? Not everybody tries to do what they think is right for the sake of posturing. And he's always been willing to endure spit to stand up for others. Or don't you remember all the parent-teacher conferences Dad had to attend because he was mouthy in class defending other species…?_ He stifled the thought as best he could.

"Could be. I wouldn't know how his mind works. We're two different kinds," Grune said. "But you and I aren't, Tygra. That's why Mumm-Ra is also interested in you."

Tygra paused in his musing. "What do you mean?"

Grune linked his fingers together and rested his paws on the table. "Mumm-Ra is nothing if not practical, Tygra. He's a shrewd man. The gala a few weeks ago was little more than a shot at forming some business alliances he's been after for a while. I'm sure you knew that."

Tygra shrugged a shoulder. "Why else would he have done it?"

Grune's nod was approving. "Well, we chatted with Lion-O for a while. I'll give him one thing; he doesn't back down. Mumm-Ra wanted to know if he would ever be open to the idea of Black Pyramid and Thunder Enterprises ever forming an attachment, working together."

Tilting his head a little, Tygra's eyelids lowered skeptically. "Meaning that, at one point or another, Mumm-Ra would probably end up calling the shots. Wherever there are two powers, one seeks to rise above the other. And he doesn't strike me as the type to kneel."

"You're sharp, Tygra. You caught that and you weren't even there." Frustration marked Grune's face. "It doesn't upset me that you're not going to be the one taking over. It makes me _mad_. Are we living in the Dark Ages, where everything was blood and nobility and all that nonsense?" He sighed. "Anyway…Lion-O made it clear that in spite of his Kum-Ba-Ya nature, there's no chance of the two joining whether under Claudus or Lion-O. As you might expect, Mumm-Ra didn't like that. He's used to getting what he's after. I told him it wouldn't work – Claudus was my friend, but he was obstinate. And the same is true for Lion-O, obviously. But Mumm-Ra's still going to try to win your brother over, though I don't know what methods he'll be using. But they'll fail. He'd rather ruin the company than give it to Mumm-Ra, just like Claudus would've."

Tygra wavered between angry, suspicious and intrigued. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because," Grune said quietly, "if Thunder Enterprises goes under because Lion-O can't handle the job, I don't want to see him drag _you_ down."

There was another pause, and Tygra glanced up at the room, eyes trailing between people and windows and lights. "Tygra, you've got talent. You've got ambition, intellect, raw ability." Grune's claw prodded the table for emphasis at each word. "All you're lacking is the 'right' blood. You were passed over because you're a tiger. And that, my friend, is asinine. I've told Mumm-Ra about you, and he's interested. He's also interested in Lion-O, but only because of his position. And I will readily admit that I think that is a mistake on his part. I don't think he should bother about the brat."

Something in Tygra flickered in defense of Lion-O. Lion-O could be a lot of things, but "brat" wasn't exactly the word Tygra would use. Usually. Still, he looked Grune full in the face and asked, "What are you thinking, then?"

Grune looked at his empty cup, using his claw to trace the pattern. "I'm thinking that Lion-O will fail. And as much as it pains me, Thunder Enterprises will either buckle to the strain or be damaged in a way that it will never recover from alone. I don't know what that kid will do; he's flighty. How he managed to get into Ome North is lost on me."

Thinking back to the night Lion-O had first told them he was attending the most prestigious university this side of the country – rivaled only by Tygus University – Tygra said, "He graduated early. And he really hauled tail in high school so he could have a high enough GPA to attend."

Grune scoffed. "I'll bet the real reason is they saw the name 'Rey' and went to pieces."

"It couldn't have hurt."

Now Grune paused again and looked out the window. "The rain's let up. Come on, I'll tell you outside."

Tygra tossed his empty cup in the garbage as he followed Grune. The pavement smelled heavy and wet, and he let Grune put a paw on his shoulder. "Tygra."

Looking up, Tygra could see himself reflected in a window. He looked tiny compared to Grune, short and thin. And his pale face seemed younger, almost as young as Lion-O's. This was Grune who had turned on Dad. Grune, who had been the first person other than Dad and Mom to realize he was terribly bright. Grune, who had helped make him who he was.

As if reading his mind, Grune squeezed his shoulders. "I want you to come work at the Black Pyramid. You'll start out as my assistant and – if you prove yourself, as we know you will – you could easily be on the same level as me in a couple years. One of the heads. Under Mumm-Ra, but overseeing everything else."

Tygra stared. He felt the rough paw on his arm, utterly warm. "…Mumm-Ra wants me to work for him?"

Grune nodded. Frowning, Tygra looked down and muttered, "Interesting offer. You're asking me to work with our biggest competitor, turn my back on Dad's legacy-"

"-Get out from under your brother's thumb for life. Think about it, kiddo. Lion-O collapses without you keeping him up, the company tumbles a little, Mumm-Ra swoops in and puts in the funds to make it better than ever, and who's going to be the head of the absorbed Thunder Enterprises?" Grune poked him in the chest. "Mumm-Ra won't run every company personally. This is your chance. Even traditions and documents crumbled under progress and money. They erode. The business constitution won't be viable anymore if Lion-O is ousted or quits because he's the last viable male Rey of Leo's line. And then it's up for grabs, and Mumm-Ra's the one ready to snatch it. This way, you can _continue_ your Dad's legacy and make it better than ever before, not to mention get the position you deserve. And," he added, elbowing him, "between you and me, Slithe is Mumm-Ra's lackey. Lizard Co. no longer exists as an entity. You'll be the youngest executive in a couple years, and I wouldn't be surprised if, whenever Mumm-Ra kicks it, he picks the brightest as a successor. Thunder Enterprises and the whole of Black Pyramid would be yours one day. How much better could it get?"

Tygra looked at Grune and the dark cat must have seen some uncertainty in his face, for his expression grew gentle, almost paternal, and he put a paw on Tygra's head and ruffled his mane like he was just a cub again. "I know it's hard to consider, especially since your Dad just died. But things will end up better this way; you'll be an executive, second only to Mumm-Ra. The company will thrive. I'd work with and for you in a heartbeat; I want to see you succeed. And Lion-O…heck, he can go do whatever he wants. Frolic in the flowers, become a hippie, who cares? He can be happy and do whatever he wants." Grune gave him a glance out of the corner of his eye. "You know he doesn't want this. It's kind of sick, really, forcing him to take it. If you're not backing him up, he'll collapse."

That was probably true. Tygra looked toward the sky and pondered Grune's words. It all sounded good, perfect and snug and well-formed. And all of it was probably true. But…

_"I want you to look after Lion-O for me. He thinks the world of you, sweetheart, and so do I." She smiled, and the lines around her eyes deepened, making her look like an old woman with her short mane._

_"What if I don't wanna? He's such a baby…" he remembered whining. And then he felt bad, because Mom just shook her head sadly._

_"He won't be a baby forever. But he'll look up to you always. I still look up to my big sister." She kissed his forehead. "You're so smart you can do anything you want. You could be a doctor or an astronaut or anything else. But I think that you and Lion-O as a team will take you further than either of you could ever go on your own. He needs you and you need him."_

…A very large part of him thought Mom was wrong. Dead wrong. He didn't need or want the shackle that Lion-O was.

But...

Tygra gazed at Grune through hooded eyes. "The offer is really tempting. _Really_. But I'm going to have to turn it down."

Grune did not look surprised, and Tygra found he was relieved when he didn't sound angry. "Any particular reason?"

"I agree with a lot of what you've said. And you're right; Lion-O hasn't got a snowball's chance in Hell without me." He watched the fat white flakes, blinking when one lodged itself in his eyelashes. "But you said it yourself, Dad would never have teamed up with Lizard Co., even under another name." He looked at Grune. "I can see your side. Really. But that doesn't mean I can turn my back on Thunder Enterprises. I have to at least try to keep it up. I'll give Lion-O this, he'll try. He's going to fall on his face and make a moron out of himself and probably fail utterly. But he'll try. And I just don't think I can leave him out here dangling. I'll admit we don't get along. And I…"

He clenched his paws. "There are days that I swear I hate him. But…well, I'm not to the point of _abandoning _him. For Dad's sake, I have to help the idiot. It'd be like pushing him into a pit if I left him on his own. He's hopeless."

_And what would Dad think if you went over like Grune did? What would _Mom _think?_

Grune sighed. It was gentle, considering. "You're more honorable than I, Tygra. I understand. Well…I'll be in touch. Call me if you ever need anything." He opened an arm and Tygra – feeling conflicted and more than a little sullen toward his brother – stepped close and leaned into the masculine embrace. It was warm and thick, and he was just tall enough to rest his chin on Grune's shoulder. "And just so you know, the offer still stands. And it'll still stand if even your admirable talents can't keep Thunder Enterprises afloat. Lion-O's an anchor; he'll be pulling down. I think you'll come around." Grune's fingers ruffled his mane and Tygra buried his face in Grune's jacket, cheek raw against the cold air and feel of the warm cloth. "I'll always be there to help you out, Tygra. Give me a call if you're ever interested in finding out more."

"Thanks. It means a lot." The fact that Grune – not generally a touchy-feely person – hugged him for a good long while meant even more. Tygra drew away and shut his eyes hard. "I guess I'd better get back to the apartment. Drop by anytime."

"I might just do that. Take it easy, or as easy as you can." Grune thumped him between the shoulder blades and Tygra left, mind whirling with what he'd heard and the snow still tumbling from the sky.

Then he heard crunching snow and turned to see Grune approaching him. "One more thing…almost forgot." He put one paw in his pocket and drew something, flat and about the size of his paw. "Happy Holidays, Tygra. Just so you have a good picture of your old man. This was at his bachelor party."

Tygra looked down at the frame and felt his eyes heat up. There was Dad, burly but young and nearly beardless, mane short and tie askew as he laughed. A large panther with a shaved head was in the picture, rolling his eyes but with an arm wrapped around Claudus' shoulders and a lopsided grin on his face. And Grune was there too, and it was obvious that he was relatively tipsy, slapping Claudus on the back and laughing heartily at something. His beard was shorter then.

"He was wild about Leola. Panthro – that's the panther, I don't know if you remember – and I razzed him for weeks about it. He was head over heels and couldn't do anything but talk about her all evening. He was so happy." Grune placed the picture in his paw and said, "It wasn't easy leaving Thunder Enterprises. I remember a lot of good times with Claudus. But I couldn't see ever being as successful as I wanted to be if I remained."

Tygra just watched the snowflakes settle on the glass. Grune strode past him and clapped his shoulder once more. "Does that make me a traitor? It was never anything personal against Claudus. But I couldn't pin myself under your dopey brother. Your loyalty is admirable. But you don't even _like_ your brother. Are you really willing to throw away your own chance at glory for that spoiled brat?"

And this time Tygra did not correct him as he faded from view down the street. But he did say one thing. "They think they've got the guy who killed Dad. He turned himself in," he called.

Grune might have paused in the misty distance. But he continued on and Tygra decided that he hadn't heard.

He would have to tell him later.

* * *

><p>You all have no idea how hard this chap was to figure out. Writings and rewritings and (passes out).<p>

1 – Psalm 23:4.

2 – Interesting to note, I actually had to show my ID once to prove I was eighteen to buy New Years' crackers. You know, you pull a string and they pop open with prizes. And these were the cheap kind; they didn't have anything flammable or anything that could explode even if doused in gasoline. It was…odd.

3 – Lynxana is a character from the Marvel/Star TC comics. I've only ever read part of her story, but she seemed pretty cutthroat until she had a change of heart. She is not based off the OCs named Lynxana I've seen on the net. This one is based on and altered from the one from the comics. So don't go saying I stole your character.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Nuh-uh. I don't get money for this. Apparently CN doesn't get enough money for it either. Ah well. What do you expect when you disappoint a large section of the fandom several times and they leave?

Lots of LiChee in this chapter. Lots and lots…if you don't like it, do me the courtesy of going away without harassing. Y'know, instead of flaming and being positively intolerant and being a cyberbully. All right? I really put warnings for a reason; so people know what the story is and can decided whether they'll like it or not. So, lots of family and love and all that other good stuff this chapter. If you have a problem with such fare, go on and leave. Thank you.

This is especially for the LiChee folks that were stuck on the east coast during Sandy. Hope it's a little relief from that worry. Also for Heart of the Demons who recently had a birthday.

Onward we go.

* * *

><p>"<em>Remember when we'd stay up late and we'd talk all night,<br>In a dark room lit by the TV light?  
>Through all the hard times in my life,<br>Those nights kept me alive._

_We'd listen to the radio play all night;_  
><em>Didn't want to go home to another fight.<em>  
><em>Through all the hard times in my life,<em>  
><em>Those nights kept me alive.<em>

_I remember when_  
><em>We used to drive<em>  
><em>Anywhere but here,<em>  
><em>As long as we'd forget our lives.<em>  
><em>We were so young and confused that we didn't know<em>  
><em>To laugh or cry.<em>  
><em>Those nights were ours-<em>  
><em>They will live and never die.<em>  
><em>Together, we'd stand forever."<em>

_Those Nights_, Skillet

* * *

><p>The sound of roars and grunts from the next room didn't perturb him as he picked delicately through his dish with a set of chopsticks. It was normal enough to hear the Monkian hurl things about the office when in a temper. It was also normal to hear the aides and secretaries scream in terror and slam the door as they fled.<p>

Slithe paused in his meal to hit the speaker call on his office phone. "Addicus."

"_What?_" he roared. The phone crackled with the volume and Slithe easily heard him through the walls.

"Please refrain from breaking any furniture or employee limbs. We just replaced your desk last week." He plucked a beetle out of his bowl – scarab and bluebottle stir fry – and took a dainty bite. There was no verbal reply but he heard what sounded like a desk being set back down and the opening and slamming of a door.

He sighed. It was hard to enjoy a good arthropod anymore.

Addicus barreled in, stomping up to him and slamming his palms flat on the desk surface. His white fur was stiff and his reddish nostrils flared, suit stretching the expansion of his body for each breath. "Whose idea was it to hire that gunman? I told them to make sure he was capable-!"

"You are about to ruin my lunch," Slithe said mildly. Addicus noted the bowl rattling and watched with his face twitching. Then he swept the bowl off the surface into the wall, sending insects splattering all over the dark green, gleaming tile. Slithe gazed at him with his chopsticks still poised to take the next bug.

"This is serious! He _turned himself in_! Do you have any idea what this could mean?"

Expression flat and claws itching for flesh, Slithe put down the chopsticks and swept bits of beetle shell off the front of his suit. "Let's assume I don't. Tell me calmly and use small words so you don't confuse yourself."

Veins bulged along Addicus' neck and his teeth were in danger of splitting on each other. "The lizard we sent may spill who hired him. He'll ruin everything. What are you not understanding?"

Slithe's eyelids lowered. "Addicus, have you ever hunted?"

Addicus' throbbing blood vessel seemed to ease in confusion. "Eh?"

"Have you ever hunted? Ever traveled to Sava-Na to hunt in the plains, or gone to a forest to shoot game?" Slithe tapped a button on his phone. "Send up a custodian. There's a mess in my office."

He then shifted to his feet, tail swaying as he smoothed his suit. "Once or twice. I'm more of a wrestler and martial artist than a gamesman."

"I've been hunting a few times. Some lower animals are clever. There is a particular species of Chib-Chib that can fetch a high price on the Sava-Na markets of Claw-Da. But they happen to be very elusive and hard to catch."

He picked up a particularly large scarab and examined it before popping it into his mouth. Addicus did not appear perturbed. "They're quite clever. They can hear when one hunter is coming and flee from it. The best way to get one is to distract it with a pursuer and wait for it to be driven to oneself, hidden silently in the underbrush."

Addicus stared at him. "If you have a point to this story make it."

Slithe rolled his yellow eyes. "Did you think I had picked a lizard that knew who he was working for? I had a few of my underlings haul him off the street and made him a very…_persuasive _offer. He was compliant enough."

There was silence for a moment, and Addicus' blood vessel disappeared altogether. "He was a random schmuck? So…he can't rat on us?"

"No. Only a strange group of lizards that gave him a plane ticket and orders. And a couple jackals courtesy of Kaynar. You see, in my little scenario, he is the pursuer." Slithe gave him a droll smile. "Would you care to figure out the rest of it?"

Addicus growled, letting the tip of his tongue run along his sharp teeth. "If that sap is the pursuer…and Claudus' sons are the prey…then we're the hunter in the bushes."

"Precisely. They will fear him and the little group of assassins that sent him, never finding the connection to Black Pyramid." Slithe rapped his claws against the wall. "They will be like frightened animals, worrying about a threat when the real one is waiting for an opportune moment to strike. So calm down." He tilted his head back loftily. "This may work out better than we dreamed. I've already got an agent in mind to help things along. Mumm-Ra's plan has more facets than you think. You're really too excitable."

Addicus snarled and grabbed Slithe by the tie, yanking him forward. "I don't like your tone."

"Whereas I simply don't like you." Slithe's eyes had bulged for a second but his expression cooled again. "I'm very aware of how this works. I know the art and value of subtlety, while you appear content to barge around and make a scene. There is nothing connecting Black Pyramid to this incident; Kaynar got his weapon and destroyed it, the lizard didn't know…and we sent him from another city entirely. Calm down. Remember who is in charge here."

Addicus let out a very soft grunt. "Remember who can pop your head from your neck. I've done it to a frog before…"

Slithe took hold of one of the Monkian's fingers and twisted it back. Surprised, Addicus released him and howled, beginning to nurse the injured digit. A meek knock on the door preceded the custodian; a tiny gecko, pale green and coming up about to Addicus' sternum. He squeaked at the sound of Addicus' bellow and Slithe shook his head.

He waved a paw at the gecko who pushed his cart of cleaning supplies forward. "Leave this. You can go on back down to the lobby and continue there."

Quivering, big pupils round as olives, the gecko nodded and sprinted back out. Slithe envied his thin frame – he'd been that lithe once, years ago – and pointed to the gray cart. "You get to clean this mess up, since you made it. I'm sure your mother taught you that."

Addicus gave him a look of disbelief. Slithe shrugged. "Get to it. I have to go get another serving."

"And if I don't?"

"Mr. Ammit would be interested to hear about your groaning and tantrums." Addicus' face went an interesting shade of purple before he stooped, picked up a dust pan, and began scooping up beetles.

"One of these days, Slithe…"

"You'll think up a good comeback. I look forward to it." He flicked his tail to avoid it being slammed into the ground by an angry fist and shuffled out the door, wondering if they had any scarabs left at his favorite restaurant down the street.

* * *

><p>"There he is!" Kat's holler made Lion-O wince as he dragged his luggage forward. It was sweet to be greeted, the plane ride had been turbulent and his head still hurt. One kitten then the other hit him in the area of his diaphragm and he grunted, crushed by the welcome hug. "Hey Lion-O!" Kat peeped around him and sighed, hugging him. "I thought maybe Tygra would change his mind at the last minute."<p>

"Sorry. He says Merry Christmas though, and he sent presents." Lion-O indicated his extra pack and added, "Snarf stayed behind to look after Tygra for me. He misses you guys, but I think he really hates the carrier and traveling by plane."

The kittens released him after he managed awkwardly to hug them. "So…how you doing?" Kat asked. Lion-O didn't get to respond just then; Cheetara and Jaga had found their way through the crowd. Lion-O noticed how worn Cheetara's jacket was getting and hoped she would like the new one he'd gotten her. Their faces seemed careful, quiet, but she smiled at him.

It made his hurt ease to see that light, but at the same time his stomach clenched in a sort of weariness. Cheetara hugged him and he rested his chin on her shoulder. "Hey," he mumbled.

"Hi. Nice to have you back." He sighed. She didn't ask him how he was doing, she didn't say "sorry about your loss." She just expressed happiness to have him near. Lion-O liked the feeling of her paws on his back, and he could have shut his eyes and gone to sleep standing up. It was ten in Pantherle but only nine in Tretierra. Even so, Lion-O knew that it had probably been difficult for them to get here, and he was grateful for her arms around him, and he put down his packs to wrap his arms around her waist. When he pulled his head back to look at her again Cheetara frowned. "Did you bite your lip?" she asked.

Lion-O nodded. "Something like that." Tygra's involvement was irrelevant. She seemed to examine him before shaking her head.

"Come on, let's get back to the clinic. You can stay there for the evening." Lion-O didn't see the harm in it, so he nodded.

"Yeah. We can have a Christmas party soon," Kat said offhandedly. He picked up one of Lion-O's bags. "I'll get this one. Kit, get the other one."

Lion-O started to protest but the other kitten took the handle before he could get it. "Guys, I'll get them, that one has something delicate in it-"

"We'll be careful, Lion-O. We got it." They exercised surprising care in taking the packs and Lion-O watched, feeling helpless.

Jaga's paw rested on his shoulder all of a sudden and Lion-O looked at him. "It's good to have you here. You look tired."

He was. Not physically, just mentally. Inside everything was starting to sink into a tired mass, and he just looked at Cheetara and realized that the kittens had taken his packs so he could walk beside her and hold her paw.

Lion-O folded his arm around hers and their fingers twined. Jaga led them out to a waiting taxi and the city looked glittery and liquid at night, the glass looming up above them. He wasn't sure when he fell asleep in the back seat. He just knew his head was on Cheetara's shoulder and that she smelled nice. And that he felt like he'd come home.

* * *

><p>"We've seen you in the news a few times. Did a group of reporters really mob you outside a store?" Kat asked. Lion-O nodded vaguely and checked the clock. The bus that would take him back to Ome N. would arrive in fifteen minutes.<p>

"That's so rude! People just have no class!" Kit huffed, crossing her arms. Kat gave her a look. "What? Mama used to say that when somebody did something crazy or mean. Like that one guy that nearly knocked her over when she had Felo and Fela in her arms, 'member?"

"Oh yeah. Jerky head." Cheetara looked up from her files – she was sitting on the couch and Lion-O had placed the presents under their tree and sat by her feet afterwards.

"Who are Felo and Fela?"

Kit and Kat glanced at each other. "We had a brother and sister," Kat said at last. Cheetara blinked and Lion-O pulled himself out of the cloudy mass of his own mind to narrow his eyes at them.

"You 'had?'" Their clear irises fixed on him and Lion-O found himself thinking of Bengali. And he didn't really dare to ask anything more. After a moment they returned to chattering about how people had no class and Kit sauntered out of the room.

Lion-O simply looked back at the presents he'd brought. Tygra's precise folds and taping were easily distinguished from his clumsier attempts. He pondered what Tygra had gotten them all as he rested his head against Cheetara's knee, listening to the sound of her papers. Her fur was soft and the curve of her calf was gentle against his arm.

He'd spent the night on the couch and strangely he'd slept better than he had in Pantherle. The fact that he'd slept nearly all day before didn't stop him. Lion-O had gotten up an hour ago to the smell of waffles and syrup, and he ate with them as if nothing had changed.

But it had.

Instead of random, wacky conversations funny honesty, there was a silence that made him feel sick. This was still home, but it was home with a shadow over it; Claudus' death hung over every word as something that might be a reminder that it was all temporary and that outside these safe walls, there was a bad, dark world and death did exist. Lion-O felt unclean, sordid. He was a blight on their Christmas, their happy house, and the honest wildness they had when he hadn't been so…sullen.

"_It all boils down to what's more important to you; her happiness or yours. Maybe __you'll __be content with this, but she might not be. It's not only Dad's killer that's making me wonder if you're just being _selfish_."_

Lion-O listened to her flip through the papers and the scratch of her pencil against them. He looked back and up, watching her as she wrote. Her lips pursed and her brow furrowed, and Lion-O just gazed at her for a minute. The lights from the Christmas tree made her glow gold, and she had her mane in a ponytail, thick and smooth over her shoulder. She wore a red V-neck sweater and blue jeans, and looked casual. Jaga manned the front desk today, and it was slow in the morning.

She was so beautiful. He just wanted to look at her – content and intelligent and safe – and rest in the moments they had, like a young man watching the woman he loved from a far distance, unable to reach but knowing she was safe.

_Her happiness or yours._

She noticed him looking after about a minute. "Can I help you Mr. Rey?"

Lion-O shook his head. "Just thinking."

It was time to go. The bus would be there in a minute. Lion-O got to his feet and Cheetara made to follow. He stopped her by catching one of the files that seemed ready to fall. "Don't worry. I'm okay, you don't have to see me out."

"Yeah, me and Kat will," Kit said, slinking back into the room. Lion-O noticed she had something behind her back, but Cheetara was looking at the files more than the kittens.

"If you're sure. When do you want to have the Christmas thing?"

Lion-O thought for a minute and said, "How about three days? I should be able to deal with all my professors by then."

Cheetara nodded and Lion-O held her paw. "I'll see you later. Thanks for letting me stay the night." He gave her fingers a kiss and she just sighed.

"You know you're welcome any time."

Kit bounded past Lion-O and he followed her, taking his packs and thanking Jaga as he passed. The old cat was reading a newspaper and waved faintly. Kat scurried after them and the three stopped before the door. Kit proffered a shoebox.

"We were sure to get all the pieces. She doesn't look at 'em very often. We think they make her sad," Kit said.

Kat looked at the box forlornly. "Do you think we can get her a new one too? To go with the old one? So she can have two dolls. One from her parents and one from us. She likes Barbies a whole bunch."

"If I can find one that's good. That's not a bad idea. I'll see what I can do. I already called the shop in town, they have a requirement of one day to work on it in the after-Christmas season." Lion-O accepted the box carefully. "Thanks guys. This is a big help."

"No problem." Kit sidled up to him and gave him a small hug around the waist, and Kat followed suit. Lion-O stiffened. "You look like a statue. You don't smile any. You always smiled before," she continued, rubbing the side of her face against his shirt. "I know you're sad. But you know, it's gonna get better."

Anger welled up inside him and he gently but firmly stepped back, out of their arms. "The bus is here. Thanks for the help." He didn't look back at them when he left, trying to ignore the memory of her words.

_I thought it would be better when I came here. I thought I could forget about it all. But I can't. I can't…_

* * *

><p>As far as school went, things were well enough. The professors all offered condolences, pitying looks, make-up exams. He managed to pass them all – not with flying colors, but he passed – and spent his time in the dorms, failing to read books and taking late-night shifts at the bookstore until they found a replacement employee. Lion-O found his room empty and lonely without his faithful pet Snarf, and he left often to wander. He tried to keep busy, because the most dangerous, painful times were those few minutes he was lying in bed and trying to drift off and all there was to do was think about Dad and his disapproving face. If he wanted to shed tears, it was then. But Dad's old words came back and he swallowed them all.<p>

"_I've never liked men to cry. I cried over Leola and that was the only time. In Sava-Na, tears are looked on as weakness, and I suppose that carried over with my parents…"_

Dad wouldn't like tears from him. Tygra rarely cried, but perhaps that was why he had been so embarrassed at the sink days ago. But Dad wouldn't have told _him_ off for crying. Lion-O had received the "no-crying" talk at six.

The shop he visited for Cheetara's gift was a little place, filled with antique toys and a wooden counter and old-fashioned cash register, the kind that required certain buttons to be pushed before it would fly open with the ring of a bell. An old Labrador peered at him over glasses and smiled. Her fingers were bent with age and her fur was peppery, white around the mouth. She clucked her tongue when he showed her the contents of the box. "Quite a mess."

"It was torn up by a Crocaboar in a freak accident. Is there anything you can do?" She had examined it for a long minute, and her eyelids drooped so much that Lion-O wondered if he ought to cough to rouse her.

"That depends on what you want it for. For a collector to ever look at it, no. Is the value what you're worried about?" she asked, examining the tangled mass of doll hair still clinging to the skull.

"No, it's really just personal value. See, it was the last thing she received from her parents before they passed away. Years ago," Lion-O said awkwardly. The Labrador sniffed it and then squinted at him.

"Girlfriend's doll, eh? Trying to fix it up for her?" He ducked his head. She smiled. "That's a sweet thing, dear. She's a lucky gal. I remember my husband did things like that…always picked me raspberries off his farm and brought me the first batch because he knew I loved them. I think of him every time I see or taste a good raspberry." Sighing, the dog added, "I can make her look better. There'll still be some damage but she'll look like a beloved toy instead of a wild animal's plaything."

Lion-O nodded. "Thanks. That's all I'm asking." Hesitating, he added, "Would you happen to have a model like that one? See, some friends of ours thought it might be nice to get her another one like it. Sort of like…y'know, a family kind of thing." He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "They're nine."

She laughed, barking. "I think it's grand. As a matter of fact, I do have a couple of that model. I keep them in the back because they're not old enough to be considered real antiques and displayed; collectors only want the 50s dolls, or the Holiday Barbie and such…"

So that was set in motion. The price was reasonable and the work was good when he picked up the doll the next day.

He visited Berbio's too, and his midriff was attacked by a bouncing Bebo. When he managed to tug the little creature off his navel, the sad, round face made a lump form in his throat. "Bebo hear about nice Lion-O's daddy. Bebo sorry for nice Lion-O. It is very sad that nice Lion-O daddy go all the way up to heaven so soon. We make you Candyfruit and hot tea?"

Bill had hurriedly removed Bebo from Lion-O's person and apologized but the damage was done. Lion-O accepted their kindness and was as civil and grateful as he could be – which was probably actually quite surly compared to his average personage – but as black as his heart felt, there was little else to do.

This wasn't helping. He just felt so dark and unholy, a mark against the happy existences of those he loved. Lion-O realized upon meeting with the berbils that he hadn't called Panthro about Dad or the project. Instantly he felt angry at himself, ashamed. Panthro was one of his dad's oldest friends. How could he have forgotten? The cat hadn't been to the funeral, he would have remembered…

He went to his professor's office the next morning and found it locked. Considering Christmas break had started this wasn't so surprising. Still, Lion-O stood outside the door for a minute and wondered.

"If you're looking for Professor Fides, he's on a trip. He'll be back in two days." Lion-O jumped and turned around at the low, rasping voice and had to look up; the figure was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in black slacks and a crisp white shirt. This contrasted with his wild white beard and the dark spots on his face. His eyes were shut and Lion-O realized that this was Lynx-O Visus, the dean of Ome. N. The cat sniffed once and said, "Lion-O Rey, correct?"

Scary. "Y-Yeah. That's me. How did you…?"

"Logic. Professor Fides mentioned to me that you were to work on a project with him over the break. And you smell of lion. We have a few lion students, and all of them are in other sectors of the university. The fact that you're outside this office right now gave me cause to assume you were Lion-O."

Lion-O stared. "Wow. You're good."

Lynx-O smiled. "Years of practice. You're a friend of a friend. Jaga Clera. You're dating his granddaughter." This was added with a little more seriousness and Lion-O suddenly felt a lot smaller. "I've heard good things about you from professors and Jaga himself. But I'll warn you, I babysat Cheetara on weekends one semester when Jaga had to leave in the evenings to teach classes. I bounced that girl on my knee."

The thought of a little Cheetara sitting in Lynx-O's lap and being dandled made him a little amused for a second. "Understood. I…I'd never do anything to hurt her. Besides, I'm pretty sure Jaga would beat you to any retribution," Lion-O finished.

With a slight smirk, Lynx-O opened his eyes and the blind gray gaze was vacant, even if the clever face was not. "You're right. Good that you're smart enough to be aware of that." The amusement seemed to fade. "That aside…I'm sorry about your father. I've heard good things about him as well, and I'm sad he passed so soon."

Why did everyone have to do this? Why did they all have to have good intentions and be sincere about Dad dying? Could some of them secretly be hateful about it, making it all right to be angry at them? Lion-O's jaw set and he just said, "Thanks."

"You'll be leaving the school I take it? I've heard you are to assume command of Thunder Enterprises in half a month."

Everybody heard Lion-O's name and thought instantly of Thunder Enterprises. It was necessary and miserable all at the same time. "Yeah." Lion-O paused. "My scholarship only applied if I finished a degree here. I just realized."

Lynx-O shook his head. "Don't worry about it. These are extenuating circumstances. I was going to call you later about that actually. I'm waiving the cost of the semesters you were here."

The generosity of this hit Lion-O in the gut. "I…that's very kind. But I don't think my dad would like that. He'd want me to pay. And what would that look like to the other students?"

Lynx-O lowered his head several inches so his face was at the same height as Lion-O's, and even though Lion-O knew he couldn't see him, he felt it would be beyond rude not to look at his eyes. "While you attended this school, your grades and performance at the book store show you were an exemplary student and employee. You worked hard and went above and beyond just doing schoolwork, putting real passion into Professor Panthro's classes especially. And your GPA from high school was most impressive, or else you wouldn't have gotten the scholarship. I'm not going to take your reward just because you're facing your challenges like a man. Other students can complain if they want; I deem this fair. You earned the scholarship."

He straightened and Lion-O watched as he felt his wrist, noticing what looked like a watch with Braille on it. "I'm afraid I need to be moving on. You're welcome to stay in your dorm until you head back to Pantherle; I daresay some late arrival will very much appreciate it if we happen to have an extra one."

Lion-O stepped aside to let the dean pass. "Thank you sir. I'll do my best."

Lynx-O nodded and headed onward. Lion-O didn't see him again for the rest of the time he was at Ome N. And he kind of wished he'd met Lynx-O Visus a little earlier than he had.

* * *

><p>"You sure that kid's here?"<p>

She brushed her dark mane aside as she looked away from the binoculars. "I did my homework. There was a ticket purchased for a plane to Tretierra, and the buyer was Lion-O Rey. He attended this school. I've had a couple kids swear they've seen him around. If you ask me one more time-"

He raised his paws defensively. He was a black cat with white spots and yellow eyes. "Chill, Lynxana. I just don't want this to be a waste of time. Remember what the producer said; we don't get some real news soon and we're through." He drew a finger across his pale throat and her eyes narrowed. "If you dragged us up here for nothing, we're really in hot water Zanny."

"Don't call me that." Lynxana looked back through the binoculars. "I know what he said." Her jacket and thick fur were plenty insulation from the cold, but the cat beside her shivered even in his coat. "I know Lion-O Rey is in there. What I need to know is-hold on, here he comes!"

She pushed her cohort's head down and the couple of other cats with her got down in the bushes as well. Not the most original hiding place, but it would do.

Lynxana eyed Lion-O as he left the college building and then exited the campus. The dorms were located near the walkway exit gate and entered onto the sidewalk of 11th Avenue. He was wearing a blue sweater and blue jeans – neat, but not really expected of the one of the richest and soon to be most powerful cats from Pantherle. She chalked it up to adolescent habits and kept watching. He had a bag in one paw and was walking carefully along the icy sidewalk. He paused at the walkway and Lynxana took the opportunity to peek through the binoculars again to get a better look at him.

From a distance it was only his red mane that stood out. But he turned his head a little and she caught sight of his face. She observed idly that he was a good-looking boy, and he had quite possibly the prettiest eyes she'd ever seen. "Get ready to move. No cameras, not even digital ones. We can't tip him off yet. We need to figure out where he's going and who he's with."

"Wait. No pictures at all?" demanded the tabby behind her. Lynxana gave him a look.

"No. Not today. We'll find a chance later in the week. I'm just trying to get a bead on the places he visits often. He's moving," she added, pushing the other cat forward. Climbing out of the bushes, she scared a nearby dog half to death, leaving him gasping to catch his breath as she and the other three pursued Lion-O.

"Kinda cute, isn't he? Got red hair like Zanny's ole ex," the last cat smirked. He was a light-voiced, slim leopard, but Lynxana's tail swayed gently, and all of them knew that meant, 'Be quiet or I will rearrange your spots by removing your fur in pieces.'

"He _is _a cute kid," she admitted coolly. "Nice bod for a guy barely old enough to have his senior pictures taken in high school."

"_Some_body's a cradle-robber. He's six years younger than you. If he were a year younger it'd be statutory," muttered the tabby.

Lynxana hissed. "What about _your _boyfriend? You two behind the studio four years ago when you were a high school intern? I _know _he's three years older than you. That's statutory too, and who happens to have proof of it kiddo?" The tabby's face paled beneath her fur and said nothing.

Walking along the sidewalk across the street from Lion-O's kept him visible, and they stopped often to pretend to be looking at windows in case he turned around and spotted them. "Sorry. But honestly, how can this kid be interesting enough to save our hides? Sure he's going to run Thunder Enterprises. And he might have a girlfriend. Big deal. That ain't enough to save us. He won't answer any press questions right now," the leopard murmured.

Lynxana and the others watched him stop at a candy shop of all things. She waited impatiently, and when he exited again he had another bag in his paw. He continued on a little way until he reached a bus stop. Then he sat down on the bench and waited.

"One of us needs to get on the bus and see where he's going." Lynxana rolled her eyes at the silence. "Fine." She pulled up her hood and crossed the street, halting near Lion-O. She gave him a slight nod and he simply shifted over a little. She sat beside him and crossed her legs. Eying him, she glanced at the purchases through the plastic bags. Walnut fudge, chocolate with jelly in the center in one, and…Barbies?

Well, he certainly was eccentric.

Well, hot guys got attention in the media no matter how weird they were, and he was a cute number. His mane was messy and his fur was a rich bronze color, but his face was tired, blank. He sighed and Lynxana noticed that his ears were back, almost unhappy. Her heart was not moved to pity but rather curiosity; his dad had died recently, true. Would it be possible to play the inquiring stranger to get a few tidbits of information…?

The bus rolled up with a loud screech and hiss. Lion-O got up and climbed the steps, Lynxana following with a murmured curse. It would look too strange if she tried to sit by him on the bus and question him.

Oh well. She sat down a few places behind him so she could keep an eye on him and see where he got off. She had a pen and paper; all she needed was an address, and they'd have a place to stake out.

If one thing sold, it was gossip and drama. Add somebody rich, famous and attractive to the pot, and it might be the lucky story they needed.

* * *

><p>Lion-O was greeted by two energetic kittens at the door before he could even knock. "Hey Lion-O! Didja get the you-know-what?" Kat asked, lowering his voice. Lion-O showed the kittens the boxes and both sets of eyes widened. "Wow, it looks really good!"<p>

"You guys wanted to wrap them, right? Sorry I didn't give you much time…"

"No prob, we can wrap 'em right now. Cheetara's adding marshmallows to the hot chocolate. She and Jaga are really melting down chocolate and milk. It's the real stuff," Kit said. She was wearing a red sweater with a knee-length blue jean skirt, and he heard the jingle of bells as she took the boxes. There was a little sprig of fake holly and a jingle bell on her barrette clipping her ears back. Kat had blue jeans and a green t-shirt on over a long-sleeved white shirt. They both looked snug and clean and excited. Lion-O tried to feel happier about the party; they were throwing it for him, weren't they? He ought to be grateful.

But all he could think about was that Dad wouldn't be around to spend the holidays with. And…he hadn't minded the idea of missing Christmas in Pantherle in favor of this. Now it just seemed sick.

_I would have been okay with missing Christmas with Dad. How could I feel like that? Even…I mean, yeah, this feels like home…more than _home _has in forever…but still._

The kittens took the boxes and casually sidled back into the lobby, moving behind Lion-O when they entered the living area and passed the kitchen. Cheetara didn't see them and they pelted for the wrapping paper and tape. Lion-O stopped by the tree to put a couple more gifts – the candy he'd picked up an hour beforehand – under the tree. Then he drifted by the kitchen, looking in.

Cheetara was pouring miniature marshmallows into a saucepan and mixing them slowly. Her blouse was pale tan and the loose short sleeves were the sort that were tied, leaving little gaps on her shoulders. He could see her spots, and her mane was tied in a ponytail again. Her jeans were neat and slim, and for a moment he was content to just look at her and smell the burnt sugar and cold cream going into the saucepan. Lion-O didn't announce himself as he came up beside her.

Apparently he should have; when she put down the spoon she was using to stir, Cheetara turned, spotted him three inches away, and jumped. Lion-O caught her before she could hit the stove or the counter. "You scared me," she said, and he saw that her fur was standing on end.

"I'm sorry. I guess I'm just used to you hearing me." Lion-O had his arms around her waist, and he dared to lean in and hug her, her chin resting on his shoulder. "You look really pretty."

"Flattery?" she mused, kissing his cheek.

"That would imply I'm insincere. And I'm not," he said.

He heard Jaga come in and raised an eyebrow at the khakis and vibrantly red, Christmas-y, gold-sequined sweater he was sporting. It looked kind of like an old lady's sweater. "The kittens," he explained. "It was a birthday present. Little monsters found it on Cheetara's calendar." Lion-O thought of Pumyra, severe and cold as a matrix agent in her black trench coat…with a striped, bobbled hat on her head. Some things were universal apparently.

Cheetara took out several mugs and set them on the counter. "Well, what shall we do first? Open presents, eat or play games?"

Lion-O shrugged. "Whatever the kittens want. I think they've waited long enough to open their presents."

"I wanna play games!" Kat popped his head into the room and Kit followed him, holding the wrapped boxes; she'd wrapped them together as one, possibly to increase the mystery. "I'm putting this one under the tree and then we can play. Then we'll eat and open all our presents."

Cheetara looked at the box strangely. "I haven't seen that one."

Kit smiled like she'd been given cream. "That's 'cuz it's a surprise. For you. _We _got to wrap it and help decide on it."

It was wrapped a little clumsily and the ribbon was a tied, shiny string that was arranged into an uneven bow. Cheetara looked at the tag, bewildered, and then she gave Lion-O a small shake of the head. "I told you that you didn't need to…"

Lion-O managed to cock his head almost amusedly. "You thought I'd listen?"

"Apparently not," she said. Kat took the package and slunk out of the room and returned with the flick of his tail. "Come on, Cheetara made a construction paper Chib-Chib, and we're supposed to pin a red beak on it instead of his tail!"

And so it all began.

The games were obviously for the kittens – and they were the ones who generally won them, much to their delight and the adults' amusement – and they all had Christmas themes and spins on them. The kittens practically cried with laughing so hard when Lion-O was blindfolded and ended up putting the red cutout beak on the Chib-Chib's behind. Cheetara managed to get it on one of the front legs, and Lion-O noted that Jaga very nearly put the beak on the face where it belonged. But at the last second he lifted his paw five inches, and was off by enough for Kat to win. The prize was a candy cane every color of the rainbow, tied with a ribbon.

Next was Charades, and everything acted out had to be Christmas related. Kit won that one for her silent reenactment of Jacob Marley, wandering around like a zombie. Lion-O sat that one out, though he did aid Kat in pretending to be Santa in a sleigh; he rested on his hands and knees and pretended to be a Chib-Chib harnessed to a cardboard box. Cheetara held up nine fingers and then spun like a ballerina. Lion-O guessed, "Nine ladies dancing," and then the game was interrupted as the kittens were educated on 'The Twelve Days of Christmas.' Jaga didn't care that he missed his turn when they switched to other games.

Lion-O was torn. He should have felt joy and contentment. Seeing the kittens so happy and bright should have made him perk up.

But he found himself thinking of Christmases long ago, ones where Mom wore her red nightgown half the day and helped him and Tygra unwrap presents, gently tugging tape off their fingers when it got stuck. They received wonderful presents for their ages; art pads and nontoxic crayons, stuffed animals for Lion-O and soft, kindergarten action figures for Tygra. And the storybooks…he fell in love with them and sitting in Mom's lap, listening to her or Dad reading them. Usually her. Almost always her.

The Christmases after her death hadn't felt right. Dad had never been as big on Christmas, and he didn't have that infectious love of the season. So Lion-O had tried to channel Mom's feelings of Christmas, trying to make it feel like it had. He failed every year.

And Christmas had only been an indent in his chest when he realized that Dad had been about to take out the Christmas tree; the ornament box had been sitting on a counter. But he hadn't had time.

Time. It was precious, and here he was, taking the enjoyment out of the Clera family's Christmastime. Instead of being happy, they were worried about him and trying to force enough Christmas cheer into the air to make him happy.

It was hard, putting on a happy face to make the kittens think they were succeeding. Particularly when he realized they weren't fooled. After a little while the kittens tired of the games and claimed they were hungry, and it was time to eat. There was hot chocolate – Cheetara had simmered it all through the games and it was very rich – and sugar cookies, and Jaga had made baked ravioli again. Cheetara sighed. "All those carbs…it's a good thing he doesn't make it too often."

Lion-O glanced at her slender form and said, "I don't think you'd have to worry even if he did." She popped a piece of cookie into his mouth in jest, and he almost smiled.

_Which is more important? Her happiness or mine? Like it's even a question…_

But how could he ask her? How could Lion-O possibly bring himself to imply that he wanted to break up with the woman that gave him more kindness and affection and support in one year than his dad or brother had given him in a lifetime?

Lion-O instantly felt guilty for feeling that way. But it was true. This family, here, was better to him than even Dad had ever been. Dad had loved him. And Lion-O knew it, and loved him back fiercely. But he'd known for a long time that Dad loved Tygra more.

That was all right. Lion-O was still loved, just a little less. And he was really okay with that.

He thought of all the things he'd done wrong, all the times he didn't measure up, and really Dad's favoritism seemed reasonable. Really.

"Lion-O!" Kat was pulling on his sweater and Lion-O flinched. "Hey, you want another cookie? Me and Kit made this batch!"

Lion-O looked at the burnt cookie and said gently, "In a little bit. I'm not really hungry right now."

"But Lion-O, you haven't eaten anything but one cookie. Just one more?" The muted concern in the kittens' eyes made him realize that they _weren't _being fooled by his acting.

"No." He tried not to sound curt. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Lion-O felt a headache coming on and took a drink of hot chocolate to keep himself busy.

"Come on, Lion-O, just one? They're really yummy!"

Jaga tugged at Kat's sleeve. "Maybe later, Kat. Lion-O said 'no' for right now."

Kat's tail drooped, and Lin-O felt guilty, but his anger reared back up in response to being made to feel guilt. _Seriously, I just said I didn't want a whisker-flipping cookie…_

"Lion-O, how about we open our presents now? I'll get yours out from under the tree for you," Kit said a little loudly. Lion-O's ear twitched.

"I don't care what order we go in, really." Why was he suddenly angry? Was it because the kittens could see through him and were annoyingly sweet and trying so hard to cheer him up when there was no way to do so?

The kittens dragged them into the sitting room where the tree and presents waited. "How about…this one first?" Kit asked, pulling out a box. It was addressed to Lion-O and he sighed.

"I'd rather you guys open one of yours first. Christmas presents are most fun when kids are opening them, and you've waited all this time…"

Kit plopped the gift in front of him and said, "How about we open one at a time and keep going in a circle?"

"That sounds good." Jaga's gentle voice made Lion-O's irritation ease.

_Why am I so angry? They're just trying to help._

_Is it because I liked it better here than at home? Am I feeling guilty because of that?_

Lion-O finally caved to the kittens insisting he open his gift first. It was a watch with Optimus Prime from the first generation Transformers behind the numbers. The kittens stated proudly that they had helped find it. "I was looking through the comic shop in town and they had this. Cheetara helped us get it though," Kat said.

"It's really great," Lion-O said quietly, admiring the Autobot's profile, "but I hope you didn't spend a lot on me." It didn't look very expensive; it was a reproduction judging by the shine and new gleam. That was good, because wearing an original would tarnish it, and he wanted to wear a watch if they had gotten it for him. But the thought of them putting themselves out for him even more…

Jaga shook his head. "Don't worry, everything was well within our budgets. I tend to think it's the thought that counts." Lion-O latched it onto his wrist and set it.

"We got your favorite character, right? We wanted to make sure it was the right one," Kit piped up, looking at it on his arm.

_I only told them once and they remembered. How many times did I ask Dad for an Optimus Prime action figure only to get Megatron on my fourteenth birthday? _The thought came before he could stop it, and it felt like a knife in his stomach. And then, a cruel thought raged by. _It doesn't matter. As stupid as the request was, you were lucky to get anything at all. Tygra never asked for action figures at fourteen. He was too smart for that._

"…Yeah Kit. You got my favorite." Lion-O looked at the tree and the lights hurt his eyes. "How about you guys get one for you now?"

Kit scrambled under the tree and pulled out one for her brother and then one for Cheetara. It wasn't technically wrapped; it was the chocolates. "Kat, open yours. I got that for you," Cheetara said, holding the box of chocolates in her lap. Kat tore into his package and grinned.

"Cool!" A humble Rubik's cube came loose from the wrapping paper. Lion-O gave it a bemused look as Kat beamed over it. "My Papa had one of these," Kat explained. "He could never figure it out, no matter how hard he tried. He wasn't very good at puzzles. So I always said I wanted to try, and that I'd figure it out for him someday." He peaceably looked at all the matching sides before shutting his eyes and beginning to mess it up.

Lion-O's heart kicked in a fearful hurt, rather like Snarf digging in his claws when being dragged to the bath. He turned his attention to Cheetara. She caught his eye – serene, quiet, did she know what he was thinking? – and peeped into the box and shook her head. "I'll bet the shop owner looked at you like you were crazy."

"He did say it wasn't every day that somebody came in actually _wanting_ all toffees and jelly chocolates." She was seated in the armchair nearest the Christmas tree, and Lion-O was sitting on the floor beside her legs again, finding a strange comfort in the proximity. She cuffed one paw gently over his mane and watched as Kit pulled out a present for Jaga.

Jaga ended up receiving the walnut fudge, a book on new discoveries about animals, various odds and ends for his office and desk, paw-drawn picture from the kittens, the cassette tapes and the new radio. He gave this last one a long look, squinting at the knobs and buttons and observing the round shape of it. "Thank you Cheetara. But it's a tad…flashy."

"Jaga, there was no way for me to find one from the fifties. Give it some time. You've accepted color television, why not a new radio?" The weary note in Cheetara's voice told Lion-O they'd had this disagreement before. Jaga sighed and stroke his beard.

"Perhaps…still, they just don't build them the way they used to…after all, what in the world is this hole here for?"

Kat snickered. "That's a port so you can attach an MP3 or I-Pod and play its music on it."

Jaga's brows rose. It was one of the first times Lion-O had ever seen him really surprised. "…The I-Pod is that little thing with the screen I see around town, right? That people put the earbuds into…?"

Apparently Jaga was behind on musical technology if nothing else.

The kittens tore through their wrapping paper to find toys, art pads, children's books and movies, and all sorts of goodies. Kit's favorite was a little flute Jaga had picked out for her. It was strangely shaped – a circle – but she instantly began fiddling with it and trying to figure out how to make notes. Kat was fascinated in particular by roller skates, Tygra's gifts to him and Kit. Each time they opened a new gift they hollered and squealed and said, "Thank you!"

It was enough to give Lion-O a migraine.

Cheetara loved the jacket. She looked over the cloth and unfolded it from the box, standing up to try it on. "It's wonderful. And look at the design…" she said. It hung slender and elegant on her, and Lion-O felt warmth in him like he hadn't felt in weeks as she turned to show it off.

"It looks lovely on you," Jaga said. For a minute Lion-O felt peace, felt happy, and wished that the feeling would stay.

That changed when the kittens gave him one more gift. It was in a folder, and when he opened it…

Lion-O looked down into the crayon face of what had to be Dad.

He didn't know what to make of it. That Dad's face – in crayon, admittedly – was looking at him from this page made his insides curl. The kittens looked a little nervous. "Jaga had a picture of him, so we thought we could draw one of him with you and Tygra."

Yes, there he was and Tygra. His crayon self stood right beside Claudus, at his right, with one arm around his shoulders. Tygra stood at his left with the arm similarly folded. All three were smiling.

_It's almost exactly, perfectly…wrong._

Lion-O bit his tongue. "Thanks you guys. It's really good."

_Tygra should be to the right. That's where the favorite goes in Sava-Na. Dad always positioned him there. Not that it matters, because it doesn't. It _doesn't_._

Kat's face fell. "You're upset."

Lion-O shut the folder. "No I'm not," he said abruptly.

_And Dad didn't put his arm around me. He never did in pictures. But that's okay, I was always camera shy._

"Yes you are. Your face is red. We're sorry…Jaga said maybe we should wait to give it to you until later."

Lion-O set the folder gently on the coffee table. "I told you I'm not upset. It's fine." His voice was hard and his shoulders set.

Cheetara rested a paw on his back but right then it didn't help. Because Kit said quietly, "Y'know…it doesn't hurt so bad later. I mean, you'll miss him. But not as bad."

Lion-O felt Cheetara's fingers tense in his fur and he got up. "How many times do I have to say I'm_ fine_?" he snapped. "Whiskers, I keep saying nothing's wrong, why do you keep doing that?"

"Because you're _not _fine," Kat said. "Nobody's fine right after their papa dies."

"Well _I _am. I don't want to talk about it." Lion-O looked at his half-empty mug and found that he didn't want to finish it. There was sourness in his mouth now. He took the mug and started taking it toward the kitchen.

Kat crossed his arms. "Lion-O, just because we're kittens doesn't mean we're stupid. Anybody could see you're upset. We just wanted to cheer you up. Tygra didn't seem to…you're kind of bumming Christmas y'know."

Lion-O stopped. He turned around and said coldly, "Well, when your dad's been murdered, and all you can think about is how bad of a kid you were to him, and everybody keeps _reminding _you of him with every stupid thing, it's hard _not _to 'bum Christmas.'"

Both kittens stared at him. Lion-O didn't know why he was saying what he was now; his mouth seemed to be running and if this was his heart overflowing it was very black today. "And you know what? Honestly? Since I'm 'bumming' the party, maybe I should just leave."

Both of them looked hurt and shocked. "But Lion-O, we threw the party for you…!"

"Well, that's too bad, isn't it? Because it's not making things any better. And if I have to listen to any more yelling from you two, my head's going to fly off." With that he entered the kitchen, slammed the mug onto the counter, and cursed when the liquid spilled out.

_That wasn't fair,_ his heart raged. _Those kids are trying to make you cheer up and all you do is snarl at them! Tygra was right, you should've stayed home. And Kat was right too._

_I just couldn't take it anymore! Them and…and Dad and everything…who are they to talk about it hurting less?_

_They're orphans, stupid. They've lost their parents too. _At that Lion-O could only take the paper towel roll sitting on the counter and begin mopping up what he'd spilled.

They were orphans too. _Stupid._ If anyone would know how this felt, wouldn't it be them? And he was so spiteful when all they did was try to help…

He threw the paper towel away and started washing out his mug. Chancing a glance toward the sitting room door he paused; Cheetara was in the doorway, watching him. Lion-O suddenly felt like scum, like he was too dirty to meet her eyes.

_Ruining Christmas for her too. Tygra was right. I am selfish, aren't I?_

He dried the mug and put it away, aware of when she drifted close to him. "…I didn't mean what I said. I've been so angry, and I just lost it when I saw the picture."

Lion-O rested his elbows against the counter. "I'm sorry I said that. I…I should go. I'm not being fair, I shouldn't have taken it out on them. I'm being terrible."

Cheetara leaned thoughtfully against the counter beside him. He could feel her fingers stroking down his back and plucking off lint from his sweater. "When my parents died," she said at last, drawing his attention like a magnet, "I was six. And I didn't understand why I had to go live with Jaga. We used to visit him, and we'd say hello to him at church, but I never really knew much about him other than the fact that he never got married and smelled old. But he was the closest thing to family we had anywhere. It made me so mad that I had to live with him and listen to him like he was my dad."

Lion-O lifted his head and watched her. She wasn't looking at his face but his sweater, tracing the stripes. "I was so impatient with him and even though he was just being kind, I just wanted to yell and throw tantrums. I missed my parents, I missed my old room. Nothing was the same and I felt like, maybe if I got mad enough, something would give. Maybe Jaga would get sick of putting up with me and send me home." She paused. "I don't know what I thought I'd do then. I guess I didn't care, as long as something felt familiar."

Still leaning on the counter, Lion-O's eyes met hers as she continued, "It all came to a head six months after I'd been living with him. He told me that I had to clean my room and that I didn't get to have dessert for the rest of the week because I'd ignored him."

To imagine affectionate, mature Cheetara as a little girl stomping her feet and throwing a fit struck him as weird. Guilt filled her face as she said, slowly, "I told Jaga he was just a mean, nasty old cat, and that he'd never be my dad or my grandpa, and that I hated him and wanted my mom and dad back."

Her face was so pained that Lion-O's eyes felt hot with tears. "I ran up to my room and didn't come out for hours. I knew what I said was horrible, but I was just so stubborn and bratty that I didn't want to apologize, even though I knew I was wrong. I skipped dinner because of it." Cheetara examined the ceiling. "Finally, at about midnight, I was pretty hungry and came down. I think I was going to get some crackers or something. But when I got down there, Jaga was sitting at the table and working on some files. He just looked up and asked me if I wanted dinner yet. He'd made macaroni and wrapped it up so I could have it later."

Cheetara smiled and looked at Lion-O, who had straightened and was looking at her. "I don't think I need to tell you I felt low. I started bawling and saying I was sorry and that he wasn't really a mean old cat. I don't think he understood half of what I was saying. But he calmed me down; Jaga just does that, you know?" She sighed. "He told me I had to give this time and be patient; I'd like living with him if I'd give him a chance. And I did. But I never really forgave myself for yelling at him like that."

"He knew you didn't mean it. You were six, you were upset." Lion-O drew her close, holding her paw and timidly touching her mane. It was soft and smooth, and reminded him of his mother's when he was little. She let him, and her expression was tender.

"And the kittens know you. They know you're upset. And they know how it feels to lose parents. They don't want you to leave."

Lion-O averted his gaze, shame reddening his face. "But I'm eighteen. I should know better. And I still think I should just apologize and go. I'm killing the Christmas spirit worse than Scrooge."

Cheetara touched his face and made him look at her. "I seem to recall that in that very famous story, happiness and good cheer were granted especially on the kindly, even when they became disagreeable. Because it was a 'pity to fight on Christmas.' And it was always given to those who needed it most."

Lion-O almost smiled. "That was on Christmas Day itself. 'My life upon this globe, it is very brief(1).'"

Her paw felt nice against his skin and he pressed one paw against her fingers. "I think you've forgotten that this is my household, and therefore my rules apply. So if I say it's Christmas, it's Christmas."

Tucking one blonde lock of mane behind her ear, Lion-O said finally, "I guess you're right. They're your rules in your house. And you've told me before that I can't outrun you."

"Indeed you can't. Don't make me lock you in." Again he almost smiled, and she ducked her head a little to meet his downcast gaze. "Come on, that was almost somewhat funny. Can I get a smile? Just a little one?"

His mouth mechanically lifted. Cheetara eyed his lips. "That's the most anemic, fake smile I've ever seen."

"My dad just died. Not exactly in the best mood." She winced.

"Sorry. It's just hard to see you so down." Cheetara seemed to draw away even though she didn't move an inch. He'd upset her. He could have shot himself in the foot.

"I know. You're just trying to help. _All _of you. Sorry I snapped." Hesitantly, he tilted his head and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "It means a lot. Really." He tried to smile again. "I just…all I can think about is how much of a disappointment I was. How bad of a son I was."

Cheetara gazed at him in disbelief. "Yeah. _You're _a disappointment. You work hard at school and earn a scholarship to Ome Freaking North, you stand up for people no matter what bigots say, you're old-fashioned and treat everyone well, particularly me, you have a sense of morality, decency and faith…"

She shook her head. "Yeah, you're a disappointment all right. Criminy Lion-O, if you're a disappointment, I don't know _what _anyone else is."

"Stop." Lion-O couldn't look at her again. "I'm not like that. Didn't you hear me in there?"

"Yes. And I heard you apologize and beat on yourself." Cheetara sighed. "You know, if you need to get something out you can."

"Like what?"

Cheetara shrugged. "I don't know. You look like you need to cry, frankly. The kittens were right; your face has been pink the whole time you've been here. We can read your face like a book."

Lion-O just stared at her for a minute. Why did everything in his face and body feel so hot, and why did it feel like he was breaking into molten pieces? And why was his face wet, and why were her eyes following something trailing slowly down his cheek?

Cheetara brushed a thumb over his face.

Stubbornly, childishly, Lion-O hid his face in his arm. He heard her breath in a frustrated puff. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. Your dad died. It's okay to cry."

"Dad…didn't really like us to cry. He only cried once, for Mom. But he said that his father always told him that men don't cry."

Cheetara shook her head and her paws were soft, firm, rubbing away the tears and cupping his face. "I'm going to be brutally honest; that's crap," she said flatly. Lion-O blinked. He'd never heard her say 'crap.' It sounded like a dirty word from her mouth. "Some people cry and some don't. I'm not a crier. But you shouldn't feel ashamed that you've got the heart to cry for somebody."

_But Dad wouldn't like it. It'd just be one more thing on the list I did wrong in his eyes._

_But Dad isn't here. And Mom wouldn't mind if I cried._

Lion-O shut his eyes, felt the tears swell and break, and lowered his head until his face was buried in Cheetara's neck. He didn't wail or sob, just breathed in and let her wrap her arms around his neck and shoulders, inhaling her warmth. He clung to her, arms around her waist with his paws open against her back. Her blouse was soft, her fur was soft…and yet in her there was steel, a quiet strength, and he drew on that as the seconds trickled on and wished his eyes just would stop streaming.

Cheetara made him feel safe. Cheetara cared about him because of who he was and nothing more or less. She wouldn't think less of him for crying. He didn't have to put up walls or shells or masks around her. There was no pretending before Cheetara's clear, perceptive eyes.

Everything in front of Dad had always been a sham, a lie. He'd always pretended to try to win that approval, and when he showed his real self it was all fighting and disagreement.

But here he was bare and raw, and she still held him tight. Lion-O's angry heart loosened and just…softened. It felt like all the hate just drained out; all the snarling anger and cutting wrath found a gap to spiral out of. She was conducting it out and her paws were tender against him.

Lion-O sighed through his mouth, heating the cloth of her shirt against his lips. "'M sorry."

Cheetara had her fingers in his mane. She drew them through it and said, "Don't worry about it. Feeling any better?"

"Mm-hm. " It felt good to be held; nobody had ever held him like this. Cheetara didn't make him look up, and Lion-O didn't lift his head until he felt reasonably sure his eyes had stopped. "Sorry," he said again, wiping his eyes with the heel of his paw, rubbing roughly. Cheetara took a sheet of paper towel, turned on the cool water to wet it, and used the cool cloth to dab at his face. "You don't have to do that."

"Lion-O Leo Rey," she said evenly, "if you tell me _one more time _not to bother or that I don't have to do something, I'm going turn on the water until the sink fills up and then dunk your head repeatedly. I'm serious." She took hold of his collar and yanked on it until he was nose to nose with her. "Nobody tells me what to do. That includes you. If I'm doing something, it's because I choose to do it. I worry about you because I care about you, and nothing you say is going to make me stop doing that."

Lion-O blinked. And then, he found that his mouth was curving into a real smile. Cheetara noted it and mirrored the motion. "There's my Lion-O."

Hers. _Her_ Lion-O. He let her finish dabbing his fur clean and then he hugged her. It was so hard to bite his tongue and not tell her he loved her, not tell her she was the best thing to ever happen to him. Because he still had to talk to her about…

"Thank you." Cheetara cupped his face in her paw and he embarrassedly sniffed. "Um…sorry." He sounded a little clogged.

She rolled her eyes. "How about you come back in? There are a few more presents under that tree, and I want to see what the kittens were so excited about you getting me."

The kittens were fiddling with some of their presents when they returned and Lion-O saw guarded hurt on their faces when he looked at them. Sitting in front of the two, Lion-O said, "Wilykat, Wilykit? I'm really sorry for what I said. It was mean and I had no business saying it. It was really nice of you guys to try to cheer me up. I guess I forgot that you guys would know more than anybody how much it hurts to lose your dad."

The hurt faded and their tawny eyes were clear. "That's okay," Kat said. He folded his arms behind his head. "I was kinda mean when Papa died. Kit ended up kicking me in the butt to get me to wake up and stop growling at everyone. And I mean it, she kicked me in the butt." Kit rolled her eyes.

"Crybaby. I didn't kick it that hard." She glanced at Lion-O. "We didn't wanna kick your butt though. You're usually nice. And you're too tall, we'd hit your leg." Getting up, Kit hugged Lion-O around the neck only to be followed by her brother. Lion-O hesitated before folding the twins in his arms. They smelled like cookies and hot chocolate, and they were snuggly warm. "I meant what I said. It gets better. It just takes time."

The simple wisdom of this shamed Lion-O further and he sighed into the fur along Kit's ears, kissing each kitten's head. "You two are very smart for your age."

Jaga had said nothing all this time, reading the instructions that had come with the radio. It was at this that he said, "I think they're rather smarter than people older than themselves generally." He set down the paper. "I think it would be best if we finished with the presents and then did something else. I think you both got some movies. Perhaps we'll watch one."

He gestured under the tree. "There are three gifts left for Cheetara it would seem. And those," he added, indicating a little pile to one side, "are for Tygra." Lion-O nodded and Kat brought Cheetara her remaining presents. She'd sat down in the chair again and Lion-O rested on the ground again.

"You know you can sit on the couch, right?" she asked. He shrugged.

"I like it here." One package was a folder and the other were the Barbies. But Lion-O gave Tygra's a long look.

Cheetara peeled back the paper from Tygra's gift, revealing a small box. Lion-O couldn't help but peek over her knee as she drew the lid away. And when he saw what was in the box, his heart didn't sink. Instead it was sucked by gravity right out of his innards, splattering somewhere around the sewer system under the city.

It was a brooch, a little pin in the shape of a flower. The petals were white like ivory and the heart was set with a yellow topaz, and the light gleamed wherever it hit. It was about the size of her palm.

It was beautiful. It was elegant, classy, romantic…perfect.

…_Why do I bother?_

Cheetara didn't seem to know what to make of it. "It's…lovely. But it looks expensive." She glanced at him as if he might know something about it.

Lion-O just shook his head. "I didn't know what he was getting you. If it was, he didn't tell me."

Cheetara rested it in the box again. "I don't know if I feel comfortable accepting this."

"He'd want you to take it. He's always been a little over the top, and you'd bruise his ego if you thought it was too flashy." Lion-O tried to curb the bitter note on his tongue but it was hard. Cheetara closed the box and set it gently aside.

Cheetara looked at the remaining box and then at the kittens' faces and then his, expression gentle. Lion-O almost didn't want her to unwrap it now; what he had been sure would be a great gift now just seemed cheap and dull compared to what Tygra had given her. She seemed to admire the wrapping paper. "The only problem with prettily wrapped boxes is that you don't want to tear off the paper."

Lion-O nodded, and the kittens were staring at Cheetara. Jaga too had ceased all motions in order to watch. Of course he'd be in on it. She stripped the paper gently from the box – or rather, boxes, as they were bound together under the paper – and when she saw what was inside she grew still.

Where there had once been tooth marks and raggedy mane and tarnished fur there was neater mane and cleaned doll limbs, all put back together and refined. She was still a bit rough, but Veterinarian Barbie was in one piece. And her crayon lipstick remained.

"_You sure you want that still on there? I could repaint the lips."_

"_No. Sentimental value." _

A yellow-furred doll beamed up at her from behind the plastic covering of the other box. It was obviously in mint condition. A tiny toy animal rested in the bottom of the box and the white vet coat on the doll was spotless. "It can't replace the one that was messed up," Lion-O said quietly. "And the other one was really rough, so they couldn't fix it completely. But we felt like if you had that doll, even a bit messed up, and the new one, it'd be nice."

Cheetara looked from the old one to the mint one, examining the label. Then she looked back at the older doll, eyes wider than he'd ever seen them. She gave him a questioning look, as if to simply ask, "How?"

"You'd be amazed how many people like to sell and mend Barbie memorabilia. There's an old toy store in town that specializes in antiques, and I looked up their number to see if they could fix her. The kittens are the ones who snuck your doll out of your room for me, and they had the idea of getting a new one too."

Cheetara gazed at them, letting her finger drift down the plastic fronts, taking in the clean, pretty face and the familiar, slightly rough one. Then, she gently placed them and the paper on the table in favor of wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug. Lion-O let her rest her chin on his shoulder as he hugged her back, getting onto his knees so she could reach him more easily. "I love them. Thank you."

Her words were full of honesty, and he replied, "It's not…well, I guess it's not as flashy as Tygra's, but-"

She squeezed him and said, "It's perfect. It…it really means a lot to have her back in one piece. You couldn't have picked a better gift."

His eyes were almost too tired to open when the embrace ceased, too happily exhausted. Cheetara gestured to the kittens and they rubbed up against her when she hugged them. Was there a quiver to her paws? "We made you some pictures, too." Kit shyly drew out the folder, tied lightly with a thin strand of ribbon. Cheetara undid the ribbon and placed it on the counter beside the paper and boxes, looking through the crayon drawings with a smile. "See? There's me, Kat and Snarf playing Frisbee like in the summer. And there's Jaga giving the Froog a bath."

Kat hopped to see the next picture. "Yeah, and that's you and Lion-O. It was Kit's idea to make all the pink hearts and goofy stuff."

Lion-O looked at the crayon rendition of himself and his mouth stretched in amusement. "Is my mane really that spiky?"

"Well…okay, I was watching Dragon Ball Z when I did that part," Kit admitted. "But it's still nice, right?"

"They're great, you guys. Really. I think you both are fantastic artists," Cheetara said, looking at the final picture. "Wow, a big group picture. There's me, Jaga, Lion-O, Snarf, you guys…and you even put in Tygra. That's nice."

The crayon smile on his brother's face made Lion-O's eyelids dip. "We didn't have any reference for him, but I think it looks pretty good," Kat said, pointing. "I got some stripes wrong, but I'll just have to pay attention next time you guys visit, right Lion-O?"

He smiled hopefully up at Lion-O. "You guys are gonna visit all the time, right? I mean, I know it can't be every week or anything, but…maybe once every month?"

Lion-O looked from Kat's face to Kit's, both waiting. _Even as crappy as I've been…they still want me around. Still want all of us around. _"Guys…I'd love it if we could. But there are going to be a lot of problems with Thunder Enterprises for a while, and…a bunch of other stuff. I don't think we'll be able to visit for quite a while."

The media would be hounding his every move after he officially took the job. The company was a weight that couldn't be lifted. Eyes and opinions jabbed from every direction. Lion-O couldn't look them in the eye and promise he could visit. Any of them.

Kat's face fell, but in an admirable rallying motion he smiled brightly. "Well, that's okay. Once things calm down, you'll come back for a visit, right?" Kit was not so good at this, brows meeting as her gaze drew from Lion-O to Cheetara in an obvious way. Lion-O put a paw on her shoulder.

"Of course. It'll be a while, but I'll come back. And I'll call you guys whenever I can. You need to e-mail me and keep me posted on what's going on. Let me know if any jerks are hitting on Cheetara," he added, and Kit smiled reluctantly.

"We'll break their thumbs. Don't worry, we got it." Cheetara laughed, and for a second the somber realization that he was leaving seemed a little lighter. If they could laugh, it was okay. All was forgiven.

Cheetara looked at the group picture for a long time. "You know what? This is a wonderful picture. Would you guys mind if I gave it to Lion-O? So he has a picture of all of us to take back to Pantherle?"

"Go ahead," Kit said, leaning on Cheetara's knee. "We can always make another one for here."

Lion-O accepted the picture and opened the folder with their other picture and slipped it carefully inside. "They'll brighten up the office. I'll think of you guys every time I see them."

"Yeah, you're gonna have an office. Are you gonna hafta wear a suit all the time? And talk on the phone? And have a secretary get you coffee?" Kat asked.

Kit elbowed her brother. Cheetara grinned. "Lion-O doesn't like coffee."

"Considering the secretary I have, _telling_ her to do anything would be very dangerous. I'd better ask politely," he said. Catching Cheetara's lifted eyebrow he added, "She's…well, she could probably beat me up if she wanted to."

Kat cocked his head. "A girl?"

"A very tough girl." Lion-O shrugged.

"She sounds cool," Kit said. She then burrowed into the small pile of gifts she and her brother had received. "So can we watch some of these? I've never seen some of them."

The rest of the afternoon was spent bundled on the couch and watching the kitten play with toys and compete to see who could clean up their wrapping paper the fastest. Once Lion-O caught Cheetara looking at the box on the coffee table that contained the brooch.

And looking at her he wondered if she had figured out Tygra also had feelings for her. His heart skipped a beat as she sighed.

She then looked at him and said, "It was very kind. But…I really don't feel comfortable accepting something like that."

He noticed she was still holding the Barbies. They rested in her lap.

_Her happiness or yours._

"Do you want me to take it back? That might hurt his feelings."

Cheetara sighed again. "I suppose not. Will you thank him for me?"

"Sure."

Lion-O knew he would have to talk to her. Ask her what she wanted to do, knowing that he would leave and wouldn't be back for months. But right now he just wanted to sit with her and pretend for a while that things weren't about to change.

Just for a little while.

* * *

><p>Over the next few days Lion-O felt his anger begin to fade. Grief hit him at awkward times, but that unyielding rage had broken. He had moved into a point past depression at least.<p>

Now he was starting to worry.

He had begun to feel just a little bit better, actually. For a couple days he and the Cleras spent time together and he found himself slipping into his habits of reading his favorite books again and such. There was still grief – Dad had passed away about a month ago – but at least this grief was normal. It hurt, and he thought about Dad a lot, but at least he felt sorrow instead of mindless hate and anger. That had to be a good sign.

But his last day at the bookstore he had bid Feles farewell, and she had given him a hug. But she also looked nervous. "Lion-O, I don't know if I'm being paranoid or what but…the other day, somebody came in here asking about you, wanting to know when you worked. I didn't tell her and she got annoyed and left. I didn't like her much."

Lion-O frowned. "Did she mention why she wanted to talk to me? Or her name?"

Feles shook her head. "She was a lynx, I think. Really dark, pretty mane. Wore a lot of lipstick. Maybe it was nothing…"

The woman sounded familiar. But he didn't know any lynxes personally save Lynx-O, and he _barely_ knew him. Feles gave him one last hug and told him to take care. And that was the last time he saw her at Tretierra.

It was not, however, the last he heard of the female lynx.

Lion-O began to feel as if he were being watched. From wandering the campus to visiting the grocery to pick up enough foodstuffs to last him a week, he kept glancing uneasily over his shoulder. He never saw anything suspicious at first.

Then, about the fifth time he did this in public – scrutinizing the crowd – he spotted something. He sat casually at the bus stop with a book in his lap, but all the while he was using the corner of his eye to watch the few people around him. A black and white cat in particular caught his attention; Lion-O had seen him before. Sure enough, later in the day he went out – just to walk – and he ended up at the ice-skating rink in the park, leaning on the railing to watch the people. He waited until he heard footsteps behind him. Then he turned his head to see the cat freezing in his tracks. The cat coughed and began to wander past him, as if heading off to the skate rental place, but Lion-O asked, "Why are you following me?"

The cat paused. "I'm sorry?"

Lion-O was fairly good at discerning lies from truth. His eyes narrowed and the cat looked nervous. "I don't know what you're trying to pull, but I've seen you about three times today. Tretierra's a big city. What are the odds of you just happening to show up every time where I am?"

Shifting uncomfortably, the cat said, "Look guy, I don't know if you're paranoid or what, but I'm not-"

Lion-O started walking away. "Quit following me. And stop lying. No offense, but you suck at it." He left the cat muttering and assumed the matter was dealt with.

Apparently not.

Lion-O still wanted to see Panthro before he left. So the next day he headed toward the school of technology building. Lynx-O had said he would be back in a couple days, so Lion-O decided to go by his office.

In the cool air the sidewalk from his dorm to the buildings felt pebbly, frigid. His claws clicked on it, and he again wondered about the merit of those odd inventions called 'shoes.' They looked so goofy in the inventor magazines he'd seen them in last year…and how would they make room for the claws?

Still, something to keep him off the cold ground to stop his soles from stinging would have been nice. Not everybody was built like a snow leopard. Sava-Na never fell beneath sixty degrees, and lions had lived there for generations before coming to Thundera.

Lion-O was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of clicking behind him. He chanced a glance back and saw a group of about five cats. They froze when he saw them. Lion-O scrutinized them; the black and white cat from before was among them.

It was then that he realized that perhaps the press had found out about him coming to Tretierra. "Whiskers."

He turned casually and continued walking. After a moment the sound of feet on the sidewalk continued, at about his pace.

While several reporters and newscats had called the apartment in Pantherle, he still didn't have his cell phone. He used the dormitory phone of late and there would be no way of reaching him personally. After the mob of journalists outside the shopping center, neither he nor Tygra had been kindly disposed toward interviews. To be fair, some of the callers had also apologized for those that had been from their stations and left them alone after that. But some callers had been rude, annoying, calling upwards of three times a day.

Lion-O assumed it was some of those that had – frighteningly enough – found a way to pursue him to Tretierra. Technically this was illegal for them; he was still a student until the new semester started, and he was pretty sure they weren't allowed on campus to pursue him unless he gave express permission.

He picked up his pace a little. The building was close and the wind was cold. Their footsteps fell a little faster now. Lion-O remembered the claustrophobic feeling from the shopping center and wondered if he'd lose it if these guys were any worse. _Tygra just said to keep telling them, "No comment." Will that work with these guys? They don't seem professional…_

Lion-O slowed and stopped abruptly. Their claws seemed to fumble as they tried to follow suit.

"I'd like to ask you to stop following me. I'm not going to answer any questions." He looked at them directly and though a couple looked startled, the others only looked grim.

"Well, we're not leaving without answers. You've been ducking the press, and we didn't come all the way to Tretierra to follow you around and not get a story."

Lion-O nodded. "I see." Then he started sprinting toward the building, lungs tearing in the cold and sudden burst of speed. It wasn't smart and it wasn't professional, but Lion-O didn't care anymore.

He didn't want to face questions about Dad and the company, or anything else. He wanted them to leave him alone. The sound of their feet running after him lent speed to him, and when he reached the doors he pulled one open and flew through the lobby.

Considering they had faster cats than lions among them, this ended up being a rather bad plan. It was a matter of seconds before one of them – a leopard, maybe? – darted around him and put up her palms. He had to stop or run her over, and Lion-O couldn't bring himself to push her out of the way. "We just want to talk! Cripes, what a moron, running like a cub…"

Sometimes having integrity was a real pain.

And then he was surrounded again, and it was just like Tretierra, and he saw tiny microphones – concealed beneath winter jackets – and recorders. And of course questions, questions hitting his ears and buffeting him around. Lion-O tried to distinguish each sentence and reply, "No comment," in turn to each as Tygra had instructed. But for every time he said the words, somebody pushed back toward him, brushing against him, shooting an even ruder question his way.

_I guess "no comment" doesn't work for me._

"Are you intending on joining with Black Pyramid and forming a board with Mr. Ammit?"

"How does it feel to know you're the youngest CEO of Thunder Enterprises ever?"

"Are you going to finish your schooling elsewhere? Perhaps with night classes?"

"What role is Tygra Rey going to play in the shaping of the company, considering he's earned a degree in economics and business and was mentored by Claudus for years?"

"What is your opinion on the laws that make it impossible for you to pass the company to more prepared paws? Any anger over that inability to choose?"

_No comment, no comment, no comment…be in control, Tygra told you if you're in control they respond to that…_

Lion-O was about five foot eight and twenty pounds smaller than Tygra. Dad dwarfed him. He had none of the advantages of size to make these cats back off – taller than he, most of them – and he did not have the commanding air to tell them to get lost. He had shown fear and they were swarming in; they knew any threats would be bluffs.

And then, the questions got much, much worse.

"What about the gala a month ago; should the city take your action that night as a philanthropic move or a stand for more recognized civil rights for all?"

"The woman you were spotted with was a cheetah. Is this also a method of protesting societal discomfort with outer-breed romance for lions?

"How long have you and the woman been seeing each other?"

Lion-O's heart was in his mouth, pounding and pounding. He flinched and drew away only to feel more paws at his back. "I have no comment! And leave her out of this! Leave me alone!" That was the wrong thing to say. Like piranhas, they delved into this fresh wound, detecting the weakness.

"Mr. Rey, how deeply involved is this relationship? Will she be heading to Pantherle with you?"

"N-No…I mean, no comment!"

"What would the physical ramifications of cubs be, considering that cheetahs have a slightly different body structure from most other cats?"

One cat seemed to smirk a little as he asked, "If your girlfriend conceives, _do_ you plan to support her?"

Lion-O snarled softly. It was just loud enough for them to hear and to halt the questions for a moment, pressing in silently. "It's none of your business how long we've been seeing each other and what our relationship is! She's off-limits! If you want to drill me for info, drill me about the company!"

What kind of journalists were these, anyway? How classless were you to badger someone whose _Dad _just died? About their love life? Not to mention pinning him to the wall. The clash of a camera lens closing made him lift a paw and shut his eyes tight almost for protection. When had a _camera _come out? But the heat of the light and the clamor of voices wouldn't go away and he wanted to break away and bolt, maybe sock somebody in the face, even though that would make him look like a psychopath and the media would dive on it and psychiatrists would start calling-

"_What in Thundera is going _on _out here?_" The roar made everyone jump and Lion-O jerked. Towering over them, Panthro Fides stood at seven feet and broad as stone, and looking about as forgiving. Like the first day of class, a collective shudder ran through the group. Panthro looked at Lion-O and beckoned to him. It took a second to free himself from the group, squeezing between two cats, and Panthro folded an arm around Lion-O's shoulders. "Come with me. I need to talk to you about your project."

One of the cats – much braver than the rest – scowled and said, "We have questions, and we're not leaving until we get some answers!"

Panthro shifted so he was standing in front of Lion-O, blocking their cameras and gazes. "Oh, you're leaving. Now. Because Ome North University has a very strict harassment policy, whether it's the media or not. Check our school constitution if you'd like to see the ramifications. You'll be in prison before they finish giving you your Miranda Rights."

It did not do to disobey Panthro. Lion-O just stood there breathing shallowly with one ear cocked toward the group. He could not see them, only Panthro's sweater vest, but he heard the click of claws in retreat and venomous muttering.

"C'mon. I need to talk to you about that project." Lion-O tried to slow his heart with deep breaths and nodded, heading into the classroom. He'd been one hallway away. So close. Panthro shut the door behind them and locked it for good measure. "They give journalism a bad name."

Lion-O looked around the room, taking in the bland seats, from one side of the room to the other. "I'm sorry I never called about the project. I just…I've had a lot on my plate."

Panthro didn't say anything for a minute, and Lion-O found that perusing stare as unnerving as the reporters had. He lowered his eyes so he was looking at Panthro's mouth, set in an even line. "I meant to call you and tell you about Dad. I really did. It's just there are so many people, and so many questions coming in from every side…"

The big cat stepped up close and Lion-O flinched, wondering if his professor was going to smack him for something. Instead, Panthro Fides did the one thing Lion-O would never have expected.

He wrapped one burly arm around Lion-O and drew him into a tight, awkward hug.

Lion-O stared at the pale, clean cloth of Panthro's shirt and blue vest, tight over his shoulder, chin brushing against his front. The muscular arm was warm, solid, and the paw curved over his shoulder felt so much like Dad's that…

In spite of his pride, in spite of the way the fur on his back lifted, Lion-O turned his head so he was leaning against the bigger cat, inhaling that scent that was so much like Dad's and yet darker, huskier. He hugged Panthro back, around the torso – as far as his arms could reach. "…I'm sorry," Lion-O whispered.

"What for, kid?" For the first time Panthro spoke directly to him, and his voice had lowered. It was not softer, but it was hard and quiet.

"…For lots of things. I've been acting so stupid the past couple weeks, and I don't know what I'm doing."

"We're all stupid when we're hurt, kid. And I know you've got a lot to deal with. Don't worry about not calling or anything; I get it." It was positively bizarre to hear Panthro so gentle, and Lion-O shut his eyes, absorbing the warmth of the hug. "Just don't go saying I'm a softie. I've got a reputation."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He lifted his head a little and Panthro rested his paw in his mane, warm fingers pleasant over his cold head. "I'm sorry. You…you and Dad were friends such a long time. I'm so sorry, I should've called-"

"Kid, I knew about the funeral. But there was no way to get down there, not with classes and exams ending. Not for me. And Claudus and I had this weird thing about funerals." Lion-O straightened and looked up at his teacher, letting the older cat clap a paw on his shoulder. "We always said that we wouldn't take it personally if the other didn't show up when one of us kicked it. Because I'd rather remember the cat I knew – the one that pitched people to the curb when they screwed with him – than the body lookin' all prim and proper. Because he's somewhere else. Not that shell."

Lion-O hugged him again and Panthro grumbled. "Aw, c'mon kid. The hug was a one-time thing, I'm not a hugger."

He noted Lion-O's backpack and asked, "Have you finished all your exams?"

"Yeah. I was just coming to see you and apologize about not calling. I sold my textbooks back to the bookstore earlier." Panthro shook his head and looked towards the windows.

"They'll be waiting down the hall you know. Want me to escort you out?"

"They might go after you." Panthro gave him a look and Lion-O smiled faintly. "Nah. They don't have the guts, do they?"

"Darn straight they don't. You won't be coming back to Ome N. after this, will you?"

Lion-O shook his head. "I've got a couple days left on campus in my dorm and then I'm headed home. I won't be in the classrooms anymore."

Panthro grunted. "C'mere then." He strode to his desk and slid open one of the drawers and Lion-O watched as he rifled through some papers. Withdrawing something, he put it in Lion-O's paw. It seemed to be a picture. In it a much younger Claudus – Dad without a long beard, how funny it looked – was wearing slacks and a button up shirt. Panthro was beside him, mane and mutton chops shaved away completely and he looking very embarrassed; he was holding what looked like an enormous brown teddy bear in one arm as if it carried disease. They seemed to be at some kind of fair if the lights and stalls in the background were indicators.

Claudus' right arm was around Panthro's shoulders and the other was around the tiny waist of a far shorter woman. Her red mane was in a ponytail and she was wearing a light blue sundress and had one arm resting over Claudus' and with her other she held another teddy bear. She and Claudus seemed to be cracking up at the sight of Panthro and his teddy.

Lion-O gazed at his mother's face and realized he hadn't ever seen one of her before she and Dad got married. Lion-O really did look like her; he had her nose and face shape more than Dad's. "This is back when Claudus and Leola were dating. She tagged along everywhere with us, and she was a hoot. We didn't actually mind that Claudus was bringing his girlfriend along on the guys' nights. Claudus won the bear for Leola, and then me and Grune got into an argument about who could beat the other at the game where you throw balls at stacked bottles to knock 'em down. I won, unfortunately."

"Was he the one taking the picture?"

"Yeah." Lion-O made to give the picture back. "Keep it kid. Your old man would want you to have it." Panthro found an envelope in the drawer and slid the picture inside, folding the flap into it. He then added, "It's a pity we weren't able to work on your project. I was looking forward to working on some theoretical tech worth its salt."

Lion-O opened his backpack and pulled out a packet. "You want the blueprints? I made a copy before Christmas because…well, I figured we'd both need one for notes and stuff. I was really looking forward to working on it with you."

Panthro accepted it after a moment of consideration. "You sure 'bout this?"

"Yeah. I don't think you'll end up stealing my idea. Anyway, it if ever ends up working it'll be more of you than me." Lion-O closed his backpack and slipped it back on. "Help me get out of here without harassment?"

Panthro smirked. "Of course, Mr. Rey." Upon Lion-O's inquisitive look he added, "I'd better keep on your good side in case I ever get tired of teaching."

Lion-O smiled and tried not to laugh when Panthro opened the door for him and bowed at the waist sardonically. "Thanks Professor."

"Eh, call me Panthro." Lion-O stared. "What?" Panthro asked defensively. "I'm not your professor anymore. You passed my class. Now come on, I got stuff to do."

* * *

><p>"<em>Flashback, stepping through the scene. There's you, and there's a very different me. Touchdown; you had me at belief, you had me at belief, you did. And where would I be without you, without you…?<em>"(2)

The new radio was nice. Even Jaga had admitted it, though he still prodded the buttons as if he thought they would fly off and electrocute him. Cheetara turned up the volume a little.

The door clattered and Cheetara looked up from her desk. A black cat with white splotches along his face had come in with a bird tucked into his elbow. It keened and Cheetara got to her feet, heading around the desk and taking it from him. "Sorry to come in like this, but he's hurt his wing. I thought I should get him some help."

She took it onto her elbow and examined it; one wing stuck out the wrong way, feathers wild. "Broken wing," she murmured. It was a Wingered, a pretty bird with a red crest and colorful plumage, and to see it in such pain made her turn immediately to one of the examination rooms(3). "Is this your bird?"

"No, I found him like that." Cheetara detected discomfort and wasn't sure if it was from a lie or from the indignant cries. She shushed the bird gently, stroking its head and avoiding its beak. "I think he's wild. Can you take care of non-domestics?"

"Of course. We'll hold on to him and release him when he gets better." She let him follow her into the exam room and set the bird on the metal counter. It seemed a little calmer after her stroking, and she kept one gentle paw under its breast as she tugged open a drawer with her free paw. "Splint and vet tape…good bird, you're doing well…"

Cheetara had fixed broken wings before, and this one was simple enough. Not a fracture, just a fragile bone broken, it would mend in about three weeks with care, and given a couple more weeks it would be flying steady again. The bright, piercing eyes watched her as she tenderly bent the wing against the body and put the splint in position and began wrapping it in tape. Wingereds tended to go south for the winter, but they were hardy and some stayed around, living around warm places like vents and attics of old buildings. This one was a tough, healthy specimen, and Cheetara figured that a few weeks might see warmer weather and a fully mended wing for it. She smoothed its crest and it seemed to appreciate the touch.

The spotty cat watched with interest. "You're good at that. Been doing this long?"

"A couple years now." Cheetara was used to idle chatter with pet owners, although generally Jaga was in the room as well. Not that she needed him to do most of this now; she was terribly close to being certified, and it was only the paper she needed anymore. The Wingered began to preen its good wing. "This break isn't too bad. Looks like a rock hit it judging by the angle. Kids throwing rocks just don't realize how badly they can hurt an animal," she added irritably.

The cat looked uncomfortable for a second. "Yeah. Funny how you can tell. Pretty smart."

"It's my job." She finished winding the tape and gave the bird another fingertip to the crest. It chirped and hopped peaceably onto her wrist. "There. A little bird seed and some rest and you'll be good as new."

"Sheesh you're fast. I mean, I know you're a cheetah, but man." He smiled at her. "I don't suppose you're taken?"

Cheetara had also been hit on in this line of work. Sometimes by nice men that she turned down gently, sometimes by jerks that got no gentle sparing of their pride. This one _seemed _somewhere in the middle, and she found she was glad she could honestly say, "Yes, I am. Not that you're not nice and all."

He shrugged. "Hey, I had to try. He's a lucky cheetah."

Cheetara began carrying the bird out the door and it glared at the other cat. "Not a cheetah. But thank you, I suppose."

"Not a cheetah? What is he then, leopard?"

It was an old stereotype that spotted cats stuck to spotted cats. Fiddling with the bird's mussed tail feathers, Cheetara said absently – to her later regret – "Lion."

"Wow. I don't know if I've ever heard of a lion seeing a non-lioness. Well, except for Lion-O Rey guy. You know, that famous guy whose dad just died." He paused outside the back room where they kept the birds; a spacious room painted like the sky and filled with large cages that allowed the birds to stretch and explore the ground and toys while they healed.

But Cheetara did not respond to this immediately, helping the bird into a clean, comfortable cage. "We'll let you out as soon as you're well; don't worry," she soothed. Placing a little Wingered feed in a cup, she passed it into the cage to let the bird eat.

Cheetara's mind was working quickly. The tone was casual, but…what were the chances somebody would know about Lion-O? True he'd stood up for that lizard, and he would be very important in Pantherle, but…

She eyed him quietly, a glance from the side that she was rather good at. He squirmed. "You don't have to pay for a wild bird. Thank you for bringing him; I'll show you out."

"Oh. Uh, well…do you have any pets for adoption? I mean, I've kinda been thinking about getting one…"

Her suspicion grew. "I'd check the animal shelter for that. We have a list up front. This is a veterinary clinic; we tend to take animals that have owners. This little guy is an exception." She brushed past the cat and beckoned to him. "Come on."

"Well, I mean, if you're not too busy, could I ask some questions about-er-Tretierra? See I'm from down south and I'm new here, so I-"

Cheetara fixed him with a glare. "I don't know who you are and I don't know why you made a point about talking about Lion-O Rey. What I _do_ know is when a bird's wing has been purposely hurt." And looking at him, Cheetara had a new suspicion about how that bird had been hurt. He squirmed again.

"Okay, I'll come clean. I'm with a newsgroup down in Pantherle, and I wanted to get information on Lion-O Rey's girlfriend, which I'm ninety-five percent sure is you," he sputtered hastily, tail switching with something like guilt and nerves. "I didn't really want to. But see, my boss has been on our tails about getting a juicy story, and Lion-O's the best bet we got-"

He was babbling so fast that Cheetara wasn't sure he even knew what he was saying. She opened the door and pointed toward the street. "Out."

With a feeble protest he shuffled out the door. "Look, it's nothing personal…we need a story, and he's-"

Cheetara slammed the door in his face, switched the 'Open' sign to 'Closed,' and locked the door. She hurried into the back afterwards, turning off the radio as she went. "Jaga! Jaga, we've got a problem."

He was sitting in his office, looking through the newspaper. It looked like a page advertising lots for sale, ones that would be good for the new vet clinic. "What's wrong? You don't tend to slam the door unless someone tries to cop a feel. Shall I get the ladle?" he asked mildly.

"No. Someone came in here with a hurt Wingered and he started asking questions about me and Lion-O. I think he was a reporter or something. I kicked him out, but…"

Jaga stood up and she leaned against his desk, shivering with anger. "I think he hurt the Wingered on purpose! And they're after Lion-O for a story, he said so."

Cheetara knew her strengths and she knew her flaws. It was just a fact that when she grew attached to somebody, she became protective of them to the point of near-stupidity. Someone wanted to exploit _her _Lion-O for a news story?

"He knew you were seeing Lion-O?" Jaga asked. He folded an arm around her shoulders and her angry shivering slowed.

"Yes. He said he was from down south." She lifted her chin and her claws loosened. "Would somebody have followed Lion-O from Pantherle?"

"I suppose someone did. They may have been following him and seen him come here."

Cheetara growled, fur stiffening. "That's so…ugh. He's going through so much, and so is Tygra. And now they've got idiots following them around trying to get personal details out of them?" She ran a paw through her mane. "I know Lion-O's taking over Thunder Enterprises. And I know how huge this all is. But…but he's just Lion-O to us. Not some CEO, not the next rich kid on the block. He's _ours_."

_Mine,_ the somewhat more selfish part of her heart added.

Jaga seemed to know what she was thinking. "He is all those things. Lion-O is loved by us, a CEO, and a very wealthy individual. It's always been people of power that have drawn the public eye, and it doesn't matter who loves them or wants to keep them away from such things. I felt it was only a matter of time before people started digging into his background."

Cheetara crossed her arms. "People don't change, do they?"

"No. They don't. The world changes, technology changes, but people remain constant." Jaga paused. "You know this puts a great deal of danger in our home. The kittens haven't technically been adopted, and if any reporters find out…"

Her heart clenched. "They might be taken away. And we run the risk of being arrested." Cheetara put her chin in her paw. "Maybe this was a one-time thing. I kicked him out and closed up. We weren't getting any business today."

"Perhaps. We can hope, at any rate." Jaga's thumb felt comforting as he folded her mane neatly behind her ear. "You're meeting Lion-O for dinner in a couple evenings, right? We'll see if anything happens between now and then."

"All right," Cheetara said. "I'll tell the kittens not to answer the door alone. I hate to think that anyone would try asking them questions. Should we stay in the house?"

Jaga shrugged. "We can't let them scare us into a hole. We need to run errands, and honestly, being out in public might deter any particularly rude attention. Just put on a hat when you go out." Broodingly he glanced at the paper on his desk. "I dislike the media."

* * *

><p>Lion-O found that the best way to avoid the reporters was to keep to his dorm room and cover his mane when he went out. Brown fur wasn't terribly notable, so he took to wearing a hat and keeping his eyes down. He didn't have any sunglasses handy, but provided he was discreet and his signature mane was hidden he didn't have to worry too much about being followed.<p>

He saw the group several times. Usually they were stationed by the main entrance to the campus, so he took side exits to get out. It was very strange; he'd never heard of people stalking the subject of their story. They really had to be desperate to follow him around like they were. Still, Panthro's warnings had taken, for they didn't enter the grounds again.

At one point he saw the woman that Feles had mentioned. She was a pretty lynx with dark mane and a sharp, sensual face. He eyed her from the bus stop, chin down and slouching to avoid detection. She and one other reporter were casually lounging around the main entrance, far enough from it that they couldn't be sent away.

The woman from Pantherle Evening National News. He nearly straightened in recognition but managed to simply board the bus that would take him within a block of Berbio's. He peered at her through the bus window. So it was PENN that was following him…seemed as if Pumyra had been right to be wary.

Lion-O sighed and leaned back in his seat. At least he was free of them for now.

When the bus let off, he scanned the street looking for Cheetara. He hadn't seen her in a couple days, and he still wasn't sure how to discuss with her the issue that was still lingering. There didn't seem to be any telltale flowing blond mane…strange. Cheetara was never late.

In the end it was a familiar gait among the smattering of cats on the street that tipped him off. Cheetara had a smooth way of walking, a graceful one, and he spotted it when she moved onto the curb.

Lion-O frowned. Cheetara had a baseball cap on her head, mane in a ponytail, and she was wearing a pair of sunglasses. He felt his own hat and waved to her vaguely. She nipped between cats to get to him and he felt her press something hard into his paw – another pair of sunglasses.

"What's wrong-?" he began, bewildered. Cheetara shook her head.

"People might be following me. We can talk inside." Lion-O said nothing, extending his arm so she could hold his paw. He noted with alarm that her fingers were cold and she seemed uneasy.

Berbio's was not very busy. In the evening on a weeknight, most people were dining in. The Christmas trees were gone and though the walls were still painted with bright and cheerful colors, Lion-O felt something sad at the loss. He helped Cheetara take off her jacket and sat down across from her at one of the available tables.

"Hello Lion-O. Hello Cheetara. Bill no see you for long time." Bill's voice was pleasant, relatively low. He had rolled up much more quietly than Bebo would have. Lion-O nodded at him.

"We're trying to keep a low profile," he murmured. Bill's head bobbed conspiratorially. He took their orders and rolled away. He did nothing to draw attention to them, and Lion-O was grateful. "Reporters have been following me." Lion-O paused. "You too, I guess."

Cheetara seemed fidgety. Her claws tapped against the table and Lion-O looked at her over the sunglasses she'd procured for him. "What's wrong?

She just rested her elbows on the table and Lion-O reached out to touch her paw. Their fingers linked and Cheetara shook her head. "Tell me. Please."

"You'll get upset. It's not that big a deal." Lion-O's thumb brushed the back of her paw and she sighed. "Okay. I took Kit to the mall the other day because she wanted to go look at after Christmas clothing sales. See if we could find any sweaters, you know? We wore caps and everything because…well, people _have_ been following us. But Jaga thought it would be okay, he didn't think we were being followed everywhere. Kit wanted me to try on a couple of blouses because she thought they'd look good with my jacket."

Lion-O smiled faintly. Cheetara fixed her gaze on their fingers. "I took them with me to the changing room and tried them on. I didn't know that we'd been followed from the clinic."

The smile vanished and Lion-O's fingers tightened on hers. She lifted her eyes and scrutinized his face, which he was careful to keep smooth. "I was switching shirts when I heard a clicking noise and Kit yelling at someone. Turns out a female photographer had slipped into my dressing room and snapped a few pictures."

Lion-O could feel his face getting red, and the paw in his lap was tightening into a hard fist, fingers bursting with hate and taut skin. "I yelled for her to get out and tried to grab the camera. She ran and I stopped to pull on my shirt." She paused and her mouth curved upwards. "Kit had snatched the camera and was hissing up a storm. It could've gotten really ugly."

Lion-O's head felt like a pressure cooker, hot and tight and so close to blowing-

Cheetara read the fury in his eyes and said, "You remember Jagana, right? Tor's girlfriend?"

"Yeah."

"Well, she happened to be looking for deals too. And she was shopping with her uncle, who stepped in and reported the woman to the shop's security team. She had to hand over the camera and let them delete the pictures, and I think she was actually going to be arrested until she did it."

Lion-O blinked. "I'll have to thank Jagana. And her uncle. Sounds like a good guy."

She laughed. "Lynx-O. Lynx-O Visus is her uncle." Lion-O stared, remembering the imposing figure and sightless eyes, imagined him next to bubbly Jagana, perhaps holding her purse for her…and he almost smiled. "Apparently Jagana is half leopard."

"Wow. I wonder if all tough guys have a secret soft spot they want no one to know about." The thought of Panthro hugging the berbils and helping him escape from the reporters made him laugh.

Cheetara's mirth faded. "I've had people come in with injured animals recently that look like they've been hurt on purpose. And then halfway through the exams they'll start asking weird questions, like if I'm dating anyone. It's happened twice now."

She uneasily crossed her arms. "That's why I brought the sunglasses and I'm wearing my mane different. I thought maybe no one would follow me then."

_Tygra was right. I'm causing trouble for them. It's my fault. _Lion-O stared straight at her, noting her defensive posture and uneasy manner of sitting. Her elbows rested on the table surface and Bill popped up beside them carrying a tray. "Thank you Bill," she said quietly. Lion-O nodded at Bill who left only to be attacked by Bebo, who seemed to want to ride his daddy's shoulder.

"This is my fault," Lion-O said at last. Cheetara shook her head.

"It's not your fault that they don't have the decency to leave you and us alone."

"But if I hadn't come here they wouldn't have been able to cause trouble for you," he disagreed.

Cheetara sighed. "Do you always have to do the self-blame thing?"

"Kind of. Since it really _is _my fault this time." Lion-O looked down at the chili in front of him. "They've been following me around since four days ago. I know what newsgroup they work for. It's just a trashy station from Pantherle. I can't believe they followed me here. And now they're following you…"

"I don't want to think about it really. I just don't. They're not worth worrying about." Cheetara sounded terse, and Lion-O reached out to hold her paw again. "Sorry. It's just…I've kind of always been sensitive about things like that. Immodesty. I can't believe somebody snuck into the changing rooms to get a picture of me half-clothed is all." She sighed and ran a finger over his palm. "Not to mention I'm scared to death they'll find out about the kittens," she whispered.

Lion-O realized in that moment that Cheetara really was afraid. His blood grew hot and a desire to protect her and the rest of the Cleras roared inside him. "I'm just angry too. They hurt animals on purpose, just for a story. And they're going after you." Her silent fear faded to cold anger. Lion-O released her paw so she could eat, and followed suit.

_Her happiness or yours._

Dinner was pleasant after that. They purposely didn't talk about the reporters, or the fact that he was leaving in a few days' time. They talked of light things, happy things; the kittens loving their presents, Kit trying to learn to play her flute, Jaga acting the new radio was going to bite him. They managed to laugh and talk, and when they left Berbio's they kissed once, warm in each other's arms.

Cheetara's smile faded a little. "I'd better get back. I need to go before it gets dark."

Lion-O blinked. "I'll walk you home. I always do, don't I?"

"I don't think it's a good idea right now. If anybody's waiting there I don't want them to see you and come after you. Don't worry, it's light out." Cheetara leaned over and kissed his cheek once more. "Call me later, okay?"

Before he could protest she was gone, cap in place and sunglasses fixed firmly over her eyes.

Lion-O took the bus back and sipped past the reporters with a slouch. He actually gave the black and white cat – they'd switched out – a kick as he passed, moving too quickly for them to get a good look. The yelp made him smile.

Then he sprinted to the dormitory phone, waited for a freshman to get off the phone with her mother, and dialed the clinic. Cheetara answered and told him things were fine. "I told you, it's light out. I was fine."

"Good. I just…I worry, you know?" Lion-O bade her goodnight again and hung up.

The desire to protect the Cleras roared again. There had to be something he could do. Lion-O stared at the phone and considered how he could get the reporters to stop. They wanted an interview with him, but what was the guarantee that it would be enough? He had to prove that he wasn't to be trifled with, that anyone who messed with his loved ones was going down. Hard.

He blinked. The answer struck him out of the blue like a fist, and he dialed another number. It wasn't too late in Pantherle…

"Verus residence." The tone was clipped, official.

"Pumyra?" he asked.

"Mr. Rey? This is a surprise. Can I help you with something?" She seemed startled, and Lion-O tried to recall the appearances of all the reporters he'd seen.

"You know how I said I wasn't sure I wanted you digging up dirt on the cats at Pantherle Evening National News?"

"Yes. I recall."

"I changed my mind. They followed me up here and they're stalking my friends. I want all the dirt you've got on the channel, the evening show and the reporters."

She didn't say anything for a minute. "Are you sitting down?"

"Why?"

"Because you'd need a shovel and a wheelbarrow for all the dirt I've found. Your legs might get tired." At his surprised silence she explained, "Mr. Tygra Rey has voiced issues with being followed as well. Not by many people, but a couple. More irritating than dangerous."

Lion-O glanced up. Nobody else in the lobby wanting to call. He sat down on the floor and said, "Well, fire away. I intend to show them that just because Thunder Enterprises is under new management doesn't mean they can walk all over people related to it."

Nice Lion-O was going on another holiday. These jerks wanted dirt, he'd give it to them.

* * *

><p>"Whataya think, Lion-O? Could I learn to play this?" Kit held up a beginner's music book and Lion-O shrugged.<p>

"I'm not very musical. I'd start in a beginner book and work my way up." People were giving him funny looks for his sunglasses and his hood being up, but Lion-O ignored it. He had assured Cheetara that the problem was being dealt with, and the kittens were dying to spend a little more time with Lion-O before he went back to Pantherle. Wilykit had – for the first time – let her ears down, and she looked uncannily like her brother, if more feminine. With a scarf around her neck and covering part of her mouth, it would be hard to tell who she was. Kat had pulled his hood up and hidden his ears that way. Jaga wore an old gentlecat's cap, the sort chaffeurs had worn in the fifties, perhaps, and Cheetara had the ball cap on. Lion-O just had his hood up and the sunglasses on.

Part of him hoped the reporters would somehow show. Because this time he was ready, and he would make sure this was finished.

But in the little shops of eastern Tretierra, things were quite peaceful so far. Perhaps it was because they didn't frequent this area. Lion-O picked up Kat when he complained his feet were hurting from the cold and let him bury his face in the side of his neck. Cheetara stroked Kat's back; they'd been looking for a while now, and Kit had yet to make up her mind. Even Lion-O's feet were beginning to ache.

Finally Kit selected a musical collection to practice on her flute and Jaga treated them all to warm apple cider and muffins at one of the local grocer's. "These shops have been around for one hundred and twenty years. My mother used to bring me here for my birthday." Jaga took a bite of muffin. "Still taste the same."

It felt so nice to walk with all of them and listen to the kittens chatter and explore. "This one used to sell soda with drugs in it," Kit observed, reading the plaque attached to one brick building.

"People didn't always know what was healthy and what wasn't," Jaga said sagely. "Actually, we still don't always know."

The sleek metal buildings and skyscrapers were visible over the old brick buildings and Lion-O squinted against the glare from them. He'd been scanning the crowd in a way that approached paranoia, still looking. Still waiting. In the end, though, it wasn't he who saw them when they approached.

Cheetara glanced over his shoulder before ducking her head. "Don't look now, but I see paparazzi," she whispered.

Lion-O peered at the group from under his hood. They were looking at Cheetara almost hungrily, and he growled. They didn't notice him, concealed by his sweatshirt, but it was too late for Cheetara to disguise herself better. Her blond ponytail had drawn their attention. She immediately turned her head away, trying to avoid their eyes.

Kit and Kat were suddenly fidgety, hiding behind Jaga. "Okay Lion-O. You said you had things under control," Jaga said gently. Lion-O nodded, running through what Pumyra had told him in his head, and still wondering how these jerks had found them. They'd all been so careful to avoid detection when leaving.

Lion-O looked at Cheetara and whispered, "I'll be back in a couple minutes," before heading across the road. Cheetara's paw brushed his shoulder in concern but he simply looked at her. An unspoken message – some sort of assurance – flickered between them and she let him go.

When he was nearly at the curb, he'd made up his mind. He exhaled slowly, tugged down his hood, and waited for the group to notice him.

He did not have to wait long. They began to murmur and nudge from their place on the opposite pavement, under the overhang of one of the office buildings.

Lion-O strode straight up to the group when the light changed to "walk" and permitted him to cross. He kept his face blank and the cats exchanged surprised glances when he stopped right in front of them. "Hello. Are you all from PENN?"

Their eyes were neither friendly nor unfriendly when one – the familiar woman with pale yellow fur and dark, smooth mane – said, "So you _have_ heard of usl. We figured we'd find you if we followed your 'spotted sweetie.'" She looked back across the street idly. "She's cute. You've got good taste babe. Guess the boys next door like blond hotties too."

Lynxana Catus. Perfect. He eyed her and felt his gaze grow hooded and cool. "I would appreciate you not referring to her like that."

She tilted her head fetchingly. "All right. What pet name do you use? Is she your 'Sweetheart?' 'Honey?'"

Lion-O's eyebrows lowered, and he forced his growl to remain locked in his throat. "I would prefer you not to refer to her at all. That's why I came over here. If you want to snoop around and slander _me_, that's fine. But when you bring the people I care about into the equation, that's where I take issue."

Someone might have laughed. He did not look away from her. Lynxana cast a quieting look at one of her cohorts. "Sorry babe. That's just the journalism game."

"No. This is _your _game. Calling you a journalist would be giving you too much credit." She did not seem offended, crossing her arms. "You look for scandals that are interesting and can nab attention, because honestly, that's all you've got going. You don't have any agents or leaks anywhere to get real news before anyone else because your station's so small. I've been doing a little snooping of my own, Ms. Catus." He paused as her eyes narrowed at the use of her surname. "I'd like this to be off the record if at all possible, for you guys as much as myself. Because I assure you, I would walk into your midst blind."

Lion-O saw the gazes of the other reporters flicker to meet each other, just out of the corner of his eye. He did not look at them; he had to hold the cards this time. He had to be in control. If he wavered, this wouldn't work. "Nobody takes you seriously. You're just the news station for when they want to hear sleaze and there's nothing else on," he said quietly, watching as one or two of them reached into their pockets and turned off hidden recorders.

_Stare them down. Let them know you're not just a wannabe trying to fill footsteps that are too big._

"Granted." Lynxana's mane slide over her shoulder as she shrugged. "What's your point?"

"My point has to do with a deal I'm willing to make with you, if it means you'll leave my friends alone." Lion-O saw the amused interest in her eyes.

"What deal? Last I heard you're sadly lacking in the ability to deal with the press."

"Maybe I've been thinking. Listen; you scrounge after stories like this because you can't get any real news until somebody else has already reported on it. Your show's too small, and unless you start breaking big news stories, they're going to cancel your segment and put in some other show. I've read the messages between you and your executives." Lynxana looked surprised, and the amusement faded. "Going after my love life might work. But I'll be the first to tell you that you won't find some steamy scandal behind the scenes. What you see is what you get; it's not terribly interesting to an outsider." People passed him on the curb and cast awkward looks back at the little group listening to him. It felt strange.

"You mean you're together exclusively? You're not having flings with anyone else?"

His brows lowered. "I mean that we don't believe in certain steps in a relationship without being married. Call us old-fashioned."

Lynxana eyed him, the speck of piqued interest flickering and dimming sourly. "So you're a virgin. You're dating a hot prude and you're not getting any? Sucks to be you."

Lion-O felt angry again, but he didn't let his face turn red. "If you think your viewers would be interested in the fact that we take walks to look at Christmas decorations together, by all means, keep spying. Is it a scoop to find out we watch steamy films like _Gone With the Wind _and _It's a Wonderful Life _and _Star Wars_? Oh, wait a minute, we _do_ hold paws and kiss. That might be enough spice to interest a five-year-old."

Lynxana rolled her eyes. "All right, all right. Go pick out a purity ring. What 'deal' were you talking about making?"

He had her. Good. Lion-O crossed his arms. "I haven't been talking to the press at all in light of recent events. That's going to change soon. And if you're willing to quit stalking my friends, I'll promise you that you'll get the first scoop."

There might have been a little glint of intrigue return to her eyes. "Oh really…? What kind of scoop?"

"Directions the company will take. Interviews. Whatever you like, whenever anything's going to happen. But you can't follow my girlfriend or her family…or my professor and friends at Ome N. for that matter. Or my employees or my _brother_, actually," he added. "They're completely out of the question. But in return, you'll get exclusive news directly from me about what we're doing at Thunder Enterprises. People will have to go to PENN first if they want to know things the second they happen."

One of the cats behind Lynxana peered at him over her shoulder. "How do we know you'll keep that bargain?"

Lion-O shrugged. "You have to take my word for it. I can't prove anything to you, even though I've got this habit of meaning what I say. But you've got an ace; I can't fail to deliver unless I want you going after the people close to me. You've still got the upper paw." He tilted his head back and let his eyelids lower. "Not like you've got anything to lose. Your station's going down without something to buoy it up. Face it, this is a silver platter."

Lynxana seemed to consider, twining one finger in her dark mane. "Hm. Touché. We only stand to gain. But I don't trust silver platters. Worst comes to worst, we'll dig into Cheetara Clera's background, see what we can find."

Her lips curved. "I do my homework too, babe. You'd better believe that, if you don't uphold your end, I can make her and her family's lives _miserable._" She seemed to relish the word. "A little of the right slander, a tad of gossip…I could have her spat at in the street if I set my mind to it. PENN may be small, but I've got a few friends that play this game. I'll bounce back."

"So you agree?" Lion-O funneled that anger into one hot, hard point in his chest, eyes narrowing. "Because I need to warn you about something. You've got assurance that I'm going to keep my word. But what assurance do I have that you'll do the same?"

Lynxana's smile was silky. "You never can tell with people like us, can you?"

Lion-O bared his teeth in a grin. Her smile faltered. "I'll _tell _you what assurance I have." He glanced across the way at Cheetara and the others, watching him with concern. "If any of them send me any messages about being followed, harassed, or bothered in any way…if I catch even a hint of some rumor about them and I find you're connected…"

He drew up close to Lynxana, surprising even himself with his low purr. "I'm gonna do whatever it takes to get the lot of you fired and discredited. Your reputations will be trashed. Like I said, slander _me _all you want. But it's a two-way street, and I know there's dirt on you. If you hurt my friends or Cheetara…or my brother and the Ome N. staff or the workers of Thunder Enterprises…I will personally shut you down. And I assure you, I keep my word."

The group exchanged glances, and he saw healthy unease. Lynxana's mouth was a coral line, smooth and calculating. "I'm a pretty easy-going person," Lion-o continued, focusing on each uncertain face in turn. "That's why I'm offering you this deal. I have no desire to get you all fired, and I see this as a good method to get news out to the public without having to deal with a million different news people. But I won't tolerate this. You are badgering and hounding an innocent family to dig up dirt on me, and that is the one thing I won't stand for."

One of them muttered and Lion-O looked at him, a dark bobcat with baleful brown eyes. "What crap you think you got on us sport? That's pretty big talk, thinking you can just shut us down."

Lion-O's lips curved and he felt a little sadistic. "Funnily enough, there are some old contracts dealing with your channel and the creator of your show from before you all got hired. I have copies of the agreements, and it would seem that you're not keeping up some of the tenets. Issues with ethical reporting protocol and such. After all, it's listed as unethical to pursue a student onto campus ground in the agreements. Section thirty-two, I believe. And I seem to recall being chased onto Ome N.'s campus ground." The shifty, nervous movements made his wavering confidence solidify. "That's only the tip of the iceberg. Believe me, I've got plenty of fodder for a lawsuit. Some things about illicit deals, questionable activity, shady dealings. How you got information on a starlet in rehab when she was a minor sounded particularly interesting." Two of them glanced at each other in horror. "And you're unsuccessful; do you really think your channel will fight to keep you on when it'll cost so much less to just pull the plug?"

Lynxana was not smiling, but neither did she seem to panic. Her gaze was appraising, flicking over him as if she were sizing him up. "…There _is_ more to you than just a pretty face, isn't there?"

"I can't take all the credit. I have clever friends." _Not to mention the most calculating, pragmatic, ruthless secretary this side of Thundera. Glad she's on my side._

Lynxana extended a paw and Lion-O's eyelids tensed with suspicion. "Come now, you've said it yourself. We have our ace, but yours has a lot more power. And your eyes don't lie." Her mouth was pretty as she smirked. "I've seen sinners and saints alike and figured out the difference by the eyes. I can't see a speck of deception in you. I think working with and interviewing you will be one of the more interesting parts of my career."

Lion-O clasped her paw and shook it. "Glad to see we have an understanding, Ms. Catus."

"Hmph." She tightened her grip on his paw and drew him close, yanking at him. Lion-O stumbled forward and tried not to show any sign of surprise when she lowered her head to whisper in his ear. "Ms. Catus is my mother. Friends call me Lynxana."

"I think 'friends' is not exactly what we can call ourselves," he said, relaxing his paw and trying to pull it from her fingers. She did not release him immediately. She smelled of perfume and her breath was warm on his ear.

"True. But I like you. So young, and you're already figuring out just how to manipulate the nasty world even though you're trying to stay saintly. I always like those cases; fun to see how they work out. So many turn to drugs, alcohol, illicit activities…I just wonder if you'll go the same way. Purity always turns to corruption." In a bold move, she caught his chin in her free paw. Her teeth seemed sharp as she added, "Besides, I've got a soft spot for cute gingers. Reminds me of an ex of mine."

Lion-O broke her grip and stepped back. "Flattery gets you everywhere," he observed wryly, trying to ignore the scared way his heart had jumped at the unwelcome proximity. "Ms. Catus, it's been an interesting conversation. I hope you'll remember your end of the deal and take the next flight available back to Pantherle. I will join you there in two days, and after my succession you'll be the first person I talk to."

Lynxana looked away, and Lion-O followed her gaze to the Clera family, still watching from across the road. Cheetara's expression was even, calm, and Lynxana seemed almost disappointed.

Lion-O's heart felt bold and serene then. _If you were trying to get a rise out of her by using me, you're wasting your time. She knows I'd never be interested in you. She knows me better than you ever will._

Jaga too had a flat, disinterested gaze, light glinting from his irises. Kat on the other hand looked nervous, tail twitching, and Kit – while she hid a little behind Cheetara, peering around her hip – had a red, angry face, and was looking at Lynxana as if she'd quite like to throw something at her.

"All right, Lion-O. Just remember your _word_."

He turned away from her. "Ms. Catus, I show you the courtesy of referring to you in a professional manner," he said airily. "Please refer to me as Mr. Rey from this point on. Thank you."

Her laugh made him pause. "So you're a big shot. Too good to be on a first name basis with dirty cats like me?"

"No. But my dad only ever let _friends_ refer to him by his first name, and I think that tradition is one I'll keep up. It reminds us of what the nature of this relationship is." With that he crossed the street, not looking back once as he reached the curb and stood before Cheetara once more. "What are they doing?" he asked quietly. Cheetara glanced over his shoulder.

"…They're leaving. That lynx woman is still looking at us, but…no, she's leaving too." From behind her Kit quivered, and Lion-O heard her growl from behind tight teeth. He lifted an arm a little, and Kit stepped toward him and huddled beside him, gripping his sweater.

"What's the matter, Kit? They didn't scare you that badly, did they?" he asked. Kit shook her head and let Lion-O pat her mane.

"That lady…she's a creep! You can just tell she's mean." Surprised by this, Lion-O pressed a paw gently between Kit's angry, shivery shoulders. "She's all slimy."

Kit clutched at Lion-O tighter, and her brother turned his head to gaze into the crowd. Kit jerked her head to look up at Cheetara. "And she was getting all touchy on Lion-O. She can't do that. He's _your_ boyfriend Cheetara. If anyone's gonna get all kissy with him, it had better be _you_!"

Jaga chuckled, and the stress seemed to fade and the street seemed cozier for it. Kit let Cheetara draw her from Lion-O's side to Jaga instead, who pinched her cold nose gently between two fingers. The move soothed her, and Cheetara took Lion-O's paw much to her apparent satisfaction. "You're absolutely correct, Kit. And knowing Lion-O, she won't ever get the opportunity to 'get kissy with him.'"

Lion-O smiled haggardly. "Don't worry; her only interest in me is how much gossip she can garner. She just wanted to see Cheetara's reaction. I think I've gotten her off your backs. If you see her or any other cameras or lackeys around when I leave, you need to call me. Because we've made a deal, and if she reneges, her show will be gone faster than she can think up a fake apology. And if anybody starts harassing you guys because of anything 'unsavory' in a tabloid," he continued, chest tightening and voice dropping, "you tell me. Because I will most definitely put a stop to it."

Lion-O sounded different, harsh, and he knew it. But his nice side was buried for the moment, hidden under the shell of an enterprising, ruthless figure. It was a little nauseating to act like this, but worse was the idea of Cheetara being hounded by those hateful, spiteful, sleazy-

He sighed. "We should go. It's getting colder out here."

Kit took his paw and Kat took Cheetara's, and the kittens led the way back to the bus stop. Lion-O wondered what the effects of this would be, and decided that if they were safe, he didn't give a whisker.

* * *

><p>To Lion-O's surprise he saw neither hide nor hair of Lynxana and her cohorts for the rest of the time he was in Tretierra. He could walk on the sidewalk without being harassed or followed, and Lion-O kept an ear to the news; he heard nothing about himself or the Cleras. Calling Pumyra the day he intended on heading back to Pantherle, he was pleased to discover that she had gone hunting online and found records of a Lynxana Catus purchasing an airline ticket to Pantherle the very evening he'd spoken to her.<p>

"Thanks for the help. I won't forget it Pumyra," he told her gratefully. Thanks to her the Cleras were safe.

"Always glad to solve a crisis. Mr. Tygra Rey has been spending his time looking over the current products and stock dividends while you've been away. He's also been speaking to the board, trying to collect their opinions on the situation. And he's not being followed anymore, thanks to you presumably."

Lion-O paused. "Oh. That's good. About collecting the opinions especially. He always was a good student."

"I didn't say he wanted to _listen _to the opinions," Pumyra said bluntly. "Don't get me wrong, he's smart, and give him a few years and I wouldn't want to trifle with him. But I've talked to him for the past couple of weeks, and he's got his head stuck so far up his own-"

"Pumyra…"

"What? Are you going to fire me? Or disagree?" she asked.

"No. I'm just surprised. Not many people don't think well of him."

"Oh, I wouldn't say I don't think well of him. I just note a person's flaws along with their virtues is all. I'm not one to romanticize anybody, and his ego is so big I'm surprised he can fit through the average doorframe. Talented people are like that sometimes. Oh, and Bengali says hello, and tells you to keep your toes warm."

"Thanks. I think."

So it was that the last evening came. He spent the morning with Cheetara and Jaga and the kittens, told the berbils goodbye, and managed to catch Panthro on his way to a pre-semester meeting. "Maybe I'll make my way down south to say hello around summer break," the professor grunted.

Lion-O hugged him and listened to Panthro mutter. "Don't you have somebody else to bother?"

In that day Lion-O said goodbye to so many people one more time. Tor and Jagana – both heading to one of the labs that Dr. Toss Gier had formed deals – were sad to see him go. "Good luck Lion-O. We're rooting for you," Jagana said. Tor thumped him on the back and Lion-O gave him two dollars and twenty-five cents.

"I told you I'd pay you back." Tor grinned.

"When you say it you mean it. Good luck, dude. I'll be thinking about you. Look us up if you ever drop back into town."

Lion-O hadn't realized all the people he'd met and gotten attached to while in Tretierra. But at the end of the day and after countless farewells, he ended up in his dorm with his belongings all packed and the walls stripped of pictures, blueprints and drawings.

It made it look foreign and empty. He would have upgraded to one of the campus apartments this semester if he'd returned. He'd even had a lot of his classes picked out for his next semester. Now it was as if he'd never been in this tiny cardboard-esque room. Lion-O scanned the room once more. He'd fed Snarf here. He'd first started crushing on Cheetara here. It wasn't much – in fact it wasn't even home to him – but it had meant something. He had worked hard to earn the scholarship and spending money to come up here. It had been _his_, of his own merit. Blinking, Lion-O realized one of the drawings had fallen to the floor and stooped to pick it up, straightening up again with a grin when he saw what it was.

Snarf. It was Wilykit's picture she'd drawn for him for keeping the Froog away. 'Thanks fore geting rid of the frug fore me,' it said on the bottom. He smiled. She and Kat had grown a lot in the past year; she'd cringe at her own misspellings now.

Lion-O lowered his gaze to the carpet and held the picture of Snarf delicately. It was shaking in his paw, and his fingers trembled so badly that it drifted out of his grip and to the floor. He knelt to pick it up, setting down his case to do so.

And then the room seemed to twist, and it was small and tight and boxing him in. What had been an illusion of safety – that crummy, average dorm that had once promised mundane simplicity – was now the illusion of a cage, gray and looming. His throat constricted, and he picked up the picture and slid it into a folder before putting it in the case. He looked at the bed, neatly made, and nearly threw up.

_This is it._

Nobody looked at him as he exited the building, even though he felt like he was sprinting to get out of it. He had thought that Ome N. would feel safe in the last few hours, feel quiet and normal.

It just reinforced the fact that he would never be able to come back. This was it. Goodbye, adios, that's all folks. Childhood was over, and it was time to grow up and never look back. He had to get out, quickly. Because if he didn't, something would lock him in, and he'd want to stay.

Lion-O had seen documentaries of cats and other animals that had caught rabies and he couldn't help but think that he might know what it felt like to contract the disease. There was no way to run far or fast enough to wear himself out enough to stop thinking, to stop the incessant pounding in his skull and chest. It was scary.

Even with his eyes fixed on the bland sidewalk, he knew when he'd…come home. It looked so small and calm, and the wreath on the door was red and green and gold.

Christmas had come and gone, but the kittens loved the wreath. They said it warmed the street. And it did. He didn't know what to do; he couldn't go back to that dorm. But he couldn't barge in. They had already been too kind to him, putting up with his lunacy. To expect them to do it again was too much. He owed them everything, and couldn't think of anything he'd given to match the scope of their support. The love.

This was home. This place was his home.

"I had a feeling you'd end up here."

His eyes focused, and his jaw hurt. Cheetara had opened the door and was looking at him. Lion-O glanced at his suitcase. "I just got this feeling, you know? I'm getting pretty good at predicting what you'll do."

Lion-O nodded and wondered at it. Half the time, _he _didn't even know what he was going to do.

"I thought you said your flight was tomorrow morning," she continued at last.

"It is."

"Why do you have that then?" She gestured to his pack and he shrugged.

"I…I needed to walk. I can't stay there. I think that I'd want to stay. For good." Lion-O put one case down and ran his free paw through his mane. His fingers felt raw and hot after hauling the luggage for so long, blood rushing into his fingertips. "I sound crazy."

"You sound upset." Cheetara stepped down the sidewalk and touched his arm, the corrective note melting the hardness in his bicep. "You're freezing. Come on, you can stay here, it's warm."

"No." He didn't snap but his voice was clipped, low. Lion-O blinked and shut his eyes hard. "No," he repeated, contrite and softer than before. "I can't stay. I've already relied on you guys so much. You must be getting sick of me."

Cheetara gave him a look that plainly told him she thought he had said something ridiculous. Lion-O averted his eyes from her perusing stare. "And…I'd want to stay even worse if I stayed here. I don't know if I could make myself leave."

"I understand. But I think it'd be okay if you came in for a little while to warm up." Her brows creased. "Did you walk here?"

"I felt like I needed to run. And I couldn't stand there and wait for the bus. I don't know, maybe I was going to just…"

He put a paw to his forehead. "I feel crazy," he admitted softly. "I've felt crazy before, but this is…"

Cheetara stepped down and took his wrist, firmly. "You're not crazy. You're stressed and tired and nervous. Come on, I'll make soup and you can just rest a while."

"I can't…"

"Please?" She drew close, and her eyes seemed sad. The sight made his heart hurt. "Just for the evening. For me."

When she put it like that he found that his resistance vanished.

He nodded dumbly and picked up his case, leaving it by the door in the lobby. The clinic was closed for the evening, and he didn't hear Jaga shuffling around. Nor did he hear the kittens playing or watching the television. "Where are the others?"

"Jaga took them to see a movie. They won't be back for a few hours. They were kind of down, knowing you were leaving." In spite of himself, Lion-O hesitated. Cheetara noticed this and paused with him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing really. It's just…if Lynxana and her crew decide to renege on the deal…this might look compromising. Y'know, being alone in the same house. Not that we'd actually do anything, it's just…how it looks." Flustered, he let her take his paw and lead him into the kitchen. "Am I making any sense?"

"Yes. I know what you mean. But I haven't been bothered since you talked to them about whatever 'deal' you made. I haven't even worn a hat out recently. So whatever you said, I think they're listening." She opened the pantry and looked over the shelf, pushing cans aside. "Cream of chicken or tomato?"

"Whichever you prefer." She selected a can of the first and Lion-O got the can opener out – second drawer to the right of the sink.

"_It all boils down to what's more important to you; her happiness or yours. Maybe _you're _content with this, but she might not be."_

Opening it, he said at last, "There's something I need to talk to you about."

Cheetara took the can, withdrawing a saucepan and taking it to the stove before she said, "All right. What about?"

Lion-O watched her. In the kitchen light her mane looked polished, streaks of gold spilling down her back. She had it tied in a loose braid, wisps escaping the band at the end. And she was wearing some shirt, a plain tee with an old high school slogan across the back. Her jeans were a little baggy, raggedy; she'd been working on taking down the tree. And when she turned to look at him, he blinked. "What's up?"

"You're not wearing your lipstick."

She seemed amused. "You only noticed that now?" Lion-O nodded. "It's funny; I started wearing it a couple years ago to feel prettier, right before graduation. People used to call me 'Bloodshot' and 'Hottie-Hungover' in high school because my face was so pale and my eyes were so red. And even though I don't care anymore, I just got used to wearing it."

Lion-O watched her lips and then lifted his eyes to hers. Fury welled up in his mouth. "You're just as beautiful with or without it," he murmured.

She laughed softly. "Some boys wouldn't like seeing their girlfriend in her junky t-shirt and baggy jeans."

"You've seen me with my mane in a mess and my most screwed up jeans. You look a lot better in your junk clothes than I do." Lion-O lifted a paw to his face, fingers on his forehead. This wasn't helping, this would make everything harder. "Cheetara…you know when I told the kittens I won't be able to visit for months at a time?"

"Yeah, I was there." The condensed soup broke apart in the water as she stirred and turned up the heat, stove crackling as the blue flames appeared. "What about it?"

Lion-O opened his mouth and shut it, tongue pinned between his teeth. Cheetara looked at him and he wondered if she had already guessed what he was going to say. So he forged ahead, cutting his tongue on one sharp tooth as he did so. "I just wanted you to know that, if you want to…you know…see other people, I'd understand."

There. He'd said it.

Cheetara paused for a moment before she continued stirring. "You're going to have to elaborate a little."

Lion-O watched her, glancing at the table. "…I've wanted to talk to you about it for a while. You see, I'm going to be gone for a long time. You know that. And Tygra said that long-distance relationships don't work out, and it's usually the girl who ends up hurt worst. And I don't want to do anything to hurt you. Ever."

Was this making sense? Cheetara didn't look confused. "So you think it would be best if we broke things off? Took a break from each other?"

Lion-O shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know what I think. I just don't want you to be unhappy because I'm not here. I don't want you to feel obligated to not see other people because you feel like you can't date anyone but the guy living cities away."

Cheetara tapped the counter. "…You said Tygra mentioned this? He put this in your head?" Her eyes were searching and Lion-O blinked.

"Well, yeah. But he's right. I mean, he knows more about this than I do. About dating I mean."

She leaned on the counter, hip resting against the drawer. "You mean dating in general, yes? Not me."

Confused, Lion-O stirred the soup for her. The condensed formula was beginning to break apart. "Um…I'm not sure what you're asking."

"Tygra knows more about dating in general. But he doesn't know _me_ better than you do. You and I have spent more time together than I've spent with him. The fact that I met him first doesn't change that. So do you personally think I would want to break up just because you're not around all the time?"

Owlishly Lion-O put down the spoon and looked at her. "I don't know. I just wanted to give you the option."

"You don't know," she repeated. Cheetara's tone was not mocking but it was a little weary. "Lion-O…do you think I care so little about this relationship that I'd end it just like that?"

"What? No! I didn't mean it like that, I just meant…you know…ah, I don't know what I meant." Lion-O rubbed his forehead, ears reddening from embarrassment. "I didn't think about what you might think of me saying that."

"I understand why you said it. But considering that _I _asked _you _out, I think you ought to realize that I'm at least as invested in this relationship as you are. And 'long-distance relationships don't work out?' That depends on the people involved, and how dedicated they are to each other. Like military personnel for example. They're gone for months at a time if not years, and their families wait on them." Lion-O felt very stupid when she started stirring again. "Do you want to know," she said suddenly, "why I decided I wanted to date you?"

Lion-O shook his head. "Call me weird, but…I've always had a thing for storybook characters," she began slowly, adjusting the stove burner heat. "The heroic ones. The really, really good ones. Not Prince Charming you understand. Just good characters. The ones with integrity and kindness." She left off stirring for a moment, leaning into him. "I think I have this weird obsession with the greater good. Maybe it's because Jaga's been everything including a pastor in his lifetime, and he really raised me traditionally and with a lot of faith; that's always been important to me. Finding somebody who tries to be good and decent…who has a real heart. Not just when it's easy or people like them, but somebody that can even care about their enemies or people that are different."

Cheetara touched the side of his face. Lion-O held that paw. "So to put it plainly…I wanted a slightly nerdy, sweet, kid-loving, old-fashioned hero type. I never really believed there was somebody out there that would fit my bizarre requirements that I could fall for happily. But there was."

Lion-O turned his face away. "Cheetara, if you trying to say I'm great, I'm not. I mean…I'm just Lion-O. Kind of screwed-up, dorky Lion-O. If you picked me because you think I'm like some kind of superhero, you're going to end up disappointed." He laughed once and extricated himself from her arms, sitting down at the table. The sensation of unworthiness was thicker than the soup. "I mean, I love stories like that too. It doesn't mean I'm like them. I'm just not. If you're looking for the perfect guy, Tygra would have been a better pick. I'm the dumb nutjob of the family. I'm second rate."

Cheetara growled. Low and angry and thrumming, the noise made his mouth stop and his heart jump in shock. "Lion-O, if you say that again, so help me-!" Her ears lay back and her pupils were slits; she was angrier than he'd ever seen her. "I know perfectly well you're not perfect. You've got too much self-loathing going on for that. But Tygra's not perfect either, and you need to get that image out of your head. Along with the image that I'm going to get tired of you and dump you in the cold to go after him or somebody more accessible. Because I have no romantic interest in anyone else. And that includes your _'perfect' _brother."

Cheetara's fur bristled as Lion-O stared up at her. He started to get to his feet. "I didn't mean to-"

"Sit down. Now." He obeyed her command with a thump, feeling awkwardly like when his preschool teacher had sat him in time out for playing tag with his friend and actually making physical contact. He wondered now if it had been because Iguo had been a lizard and some cats believed that, if you touched a lizard, you would get a rash. "Have I ever acted like I'm not happy with you, and all you are?"

Lion-O blinked, and her eyes glowered, arms iron angles. "…No. You've never made me feel inadequate," he said at last. "You're the person that makes me feel like I'm enough." Cheetara's stance did not soften, and her quiet anger did not dissipate.

"Have I made any indication that I would be unhappy if we continued dating in spite of the distance? Have I _said _that I want to break things off?"

"No. But I didn't want you to feel obligated…I mean, I didn't want you to be unhappy…"

"I know. But let me tell you something." Cheetara's eyes never left his, smoky and dark as she sat in her chair and shifted it so she was sitting knee to knee with him, paws tight around his fingers. He felt like a bug, pinned in place, and to move away from her gaze would only succeed in tearing him apart by the wings. "Do you want to know what makes me unhappy? The idea that, after all we've done together, and all the good times and memories we've had, this is going to end. This relationship…I _treasure_ this. I did when we were 'just' friends, and I value it even more now." Her claws tightened on his paws, and Lion-O saw the angry lines on her face lighten just a little.

"I do too."

"Well apparently you don't realize that I value it as much as you do. Because if you _did_, you wouldn't have made that suggestion. Because more than anything, calling it quits on this would make me unhappy. It would break my heart just as much as it would break yours." Cheetara loosened her grip, and Lion-O flexed his fingers as the blood began to circulate. "I don't want to see other people, Lion-O. Even if it means using e-mail and phone calls, not being able to talk face to face, I want to be connected to you however I can. We owe it to each other to at least _try_ a 'long distance relationship.' Okay?"

She glared down at her paws. "You always think you're low or unworthy or something. Like only somebody with something really wrong with them would like you or choose you. No matter how much I insist you're adequate in every way, you refuse to see yourself as I see you." She watched him from the corner of her eye as she added, "And I'm not so sure it's a complex you've come up with on your own."

Lion-O averted his gaze. "It's not a complex. I'm just…y'know. I'm sorry if you think it's irritating, I'll try to-"

"Lion-O, you're doing it again. Right now. How many times do I have to tell you that I picked you for a reason? How many times do I have to insist that _you _are somebody I find quite amazing and completely different from everyone else before you see yourself the way I do?"

Her eyes did soften then, and Lion-O's throat burned. "I'll be honest; you and the kittens are the best things to ever come through the clinic door. And I'm not going to listen to you down yourself anymore. Because _you _can do this. You can. You have us here and we've got your back."

Cheetara touched the side of his face, and added, "I'm not saying making all of it will be easy. I'm sure it won't. But of all the people in the world, I have never met someone as odd and selfless and different as you, Lion-O Rey. You're just you. And I believe in you with all my heart. If anybody can make the impossible happen…if anyone can bring success and hope out of this horrible situation…it's my Lion-O." With that she tilted his head so she could kiss his forehead, and the softness of her lips pressed to his brow.

Lion-O stared down at his own paws, noticing the way her knuckles seemed taut and her claws had left little red marks in his skin where she'd been hanging on. "So do you _really _want to see other people?" Cheetara asked. Lion-O lifted his head and opened his mouth to tell her he didn't want to but could this work, and would she really be happiest with this…?

"I love you."

Her eyebrows lifted and he let his thumb brush over the backs of her fingers. "I know we haven't actually dated that long, and I probably sound creepy, but…I loved you before we started going out."

Her eyes looked like polished garnets, perfectly quiet and attentive. "I don't want to see other people, but I don't want to tie you to me if you would be happier separate. I won't be here very often even though I want to come as much as I can. And there's just no telling what the company will do, and the economy, and the board of executives…"

He buried his face in his paws and his elbows stabbed at his knees as he rested his weight in his lap. "…Everything's changing. There are a million things I have to do, and so many more I have to learn to do. And the whole world is waiting for me to trip."

Lion-O felt her paws brush his and draw them away from his face. "Your friends aren't. I'm not. I'm waiting for you to rise to the occasion because I know you can. I'm waiting to see you prove those people wrong and give them a good kick in the face." Gaze intent, Cheetara pressed her forehead to his and their eyes met for a full five seconds. It felt a little odd, but Lion-O didn't have the guts to blink or the cowardice to look away. "And I love you too. So now we're both creepy." Lion-O didn't get the chance to reply; his chest was hot as she kissed him, lips soft without lipstick.

Their kisses before this had always been gentle, careful things, affectionate sparks. But hearing her say those words made Lion-O feel two very different, very searing emotions at the same time, and this made the kiss different. Stronger.

The first was pain. He cared for her, she cared for him, and their paths went separate ways. He wanted to be near her but couldn't be, drawn by a job he wanted to flip the bird. There was no knowing how long they would be apart but it hardly mattered; he had a job and she had a job, and the two were not in the same place.

And the other emotion was a strange one, hot and fierce and joyful.

Because he had never loved anyone like this, and he was certain that he had never been loved this much. No one had ever wanted this kind of relationship with him, considered _him _worth this adversity. So even though Lion-O ached at the thought of her being unhappy or lonely, he tried to memorize this feeling of being loved, and his love being accepted, cherished, _treasured_.

Lion-O lifted his paw and held her face, palm against her cheek. "Would it be all right if I took you up on that offer to stay on the couch this evening? Because I can't go back to the dorm."

"Of course." Cheetara stood up and he followed suit. "Come on. That soup is going to be done soon. Do you want to watch a movie?"

"Yeah. I think that'd be nice." It was only a little while until the soup finished and cooled, and they sat at the coffee table in the sitting room, on the floor like the kittens would have, side by side. It was a little late to watch _It's a Wonderful Life_, but neither of them cared. Somewhere around the point where George and Mary fell into the pool they migrated to sitting on the couch. Lion-O sat quietly and Cheetara, after about a minute, lay her head on his shoulder. And he – after considering for a long moment – put one arm around her, paw resting on her upper arm.

It felt nice. It felt secure.

By the time Clarence showed up, Lion-O knew it was late, and Jaga would be home with the kittens any minute. Eyelids heavy, he noticed Cheetara was watching sleepily as well.

"It's getting late."

"Mm-hm."

"You're falling asleep."

"Yes."

She glanced up at him, lashes dark and strands of blond mane draped across her face. He took that to mean that she had no intention of moving.

Lion-O brushed her mane out of her face and pressed his lips to her temple. He didn't say anything else, and neither did she.

Sometimes talking was overkill.

Jaga and the kittens came in about fifteen minutes later, enough time for George to be wandering around looking for people to recognize him. Kat held a container of popcorn and called, "Cheetara, we saved you popcorn! The movie was awesome!" Jaga noticed that there were two bowls in the sink rather than one but said nothing.

Kit – who had gone into the sitting room – poked her head into the kitchen and hissed, "Quiet!"

She beckoned to them and Jaga and Kat came in to see Cheetara's head on Lion-O's chest and his arm loosely draped around her. Lion-O was going to have a neck ache in the morning because he'd tilted himself at an angle to make it easy for Cheetara to lay on him.

Jaga put a blanket over the two of them and left them there. And for one more evening, Tretierra was a little bit brighter, and the vet clinic was still home.

* * *

><p>Cheetara woke up to the sound of Jaga in the kitchen and the smell of brewing coffee.<p>

It only took a moment for her to realize that she was leaning on a pillow and the couch cushions rather than fur and a warm sweater. There was no rhythmic rise and fall, no scent of cologne and lion, no steady thump. Under her blanket, Cheetara just lay still, listening to the clink of mugs and watery ripple of pouring.

She heard the floor creak and Jaga – still in his plaid white and green pajamas – was holding two mugs of coffee. "Two sugars, two teaspoons of milk. Or is this a three sugars kind of morning?"

His gaze was gentle, sad, and she didn't bother sitting up as she said, "Four might be better today."

Jaga set the mug down on the coffee table and drifted back to the kitchen. He returned with a teaspoon and the sugar bowl. "Four or fourteen. Whichever sounds better," he said. He sat down by her feet and they watched the steam rise from the cups as Cheetara made no move to take hers.

She didn't have to ask to know Lion-O was gone.

After about a minute, Jaga lifted the edge of the blanket and began fiddling with one of her toes. "Your feet are cold."

Cheetara lifted her head and twitched her foot in surprise. "What are you doing?"

Jaga shrugged. "One of the best ways to get any person to think about something other than what's bothering them is to distract them with something bizarre. When my students got bored while I taught anatomy, I used to sing my notes to the tune of _When the Saints Go Marching In_. They tended to remember the body systems well for the exam, only they had to sing it under their breaths." He paused. "Do you want macaroni? The homemade, melty kind? I'll pick up some cheese from the grocer."

She cocked an eyebrow. "You haven't made homemade mac and cheese in five years. I guess I look awful."

"We do only seem to have that dish when you're especially miserable. I seem to recall beating someone with a ladle right before the last time I made it. Macaroni at midnight." She remembered that. That boy – a cheetah like her – had seemed so sweet at first, but he'd copped a feel twice, scaring her to death. And him pawing at her front for the three seconds it took Jaga to fling open the door and grab his ear had scared her even more. Jaga had beat him with the ladle, threw him out on his rear, and had then made her macaroni. Not the boxed kind, the gooey, melty, soft-crust-on-top kind.

She'd planned on making Lion-O some before he left. Whiskers. Cheetara thought of the feeling of Lion-O's paw on her side – gentle, loving, respectful – and had known she never needed to fear with him. Ever. When he called her beautiful, he did not focus on a particular asset. He took in her face and the whole of her, internal and external. And he'd never made even a teasing comment about her physically(4).

Jaga continued fiddling with her foot. "Lion-O left a while ago. He said you seemed awake when he said goodbye but that you were probably half asleep."

Cheetara remembered vaguely being shifted in the comfortable dark, head resting on a pillow instead of a chest, and a soft kiss to her forehead. But she'd been so sleepy and Lion-O had been so quiet that she hadn't really…

"Did the kittens get to say goodbye again?"

"Last night before I tucked them in. They knew he had to catch the early flight. They're still in bed right now." Jaga put the edge of the blanket back over Cheetara's feet.

Cheetara didn't know if she ought to move and get up or just sit there a while longer, feeling the same as she had when he had been there. Because there seemed to a cold, empty spot now. "Did he say anything to you before he left?" she asked.

"Yes," Jaga said, sipping at his mug. "He said to tell the kittens to behave and help out around here, and that they were good kids. He told me to take it easy and _suggested_ I at least try to accept the new radio." Jaga snorted and took another drink, and Cheetara smiled. Resting his old, clear eyes on her, Jaga continued, "And he said he loved you very much, and that he wanted you to be happy and safe. And if Lynxana or her cohorts show up, we're to call him and he'll 'shut down that two-bit, trashy station quicker than Edward was willing to commit suicide over a two-dimensional girl(5).'" Jaga took another prim sip. "His words, not mine."

Cheetara's heart lightened a little and she laughed. "I don't think we have to worry about them." She began to sit up, sliding her feet from under the blanket, but paused. Something was resting against her chest, tucked in her arms. It was soft enough that she hadn't felt it before, warm and bound in the blanket. Nudging the cloth aside, Cheetara observed what she had and the laughter faded. Jaga's face was tender and he moved so he was sitting right beside her to look at it.

"…He shouldn't have left this. It's important to him."

"As are you. And of course he would give something valuable; any gift truly worth giving _costs_ the giver." Cheetara scrubbed one paw through her tangled mane and breathed in, catching the smell of cotton and lion.

"I know. But…"

Jaga put one arm around her shoulders and her head rested against his neck for a minute. "I don't feel like crying," she admitted. "I just feel like something's wrong. Like I'm wearing my clothes backwards. It doesn't feel like he's gone for so long, just like he's back at his dorm and all I have to do is call, and he'll catch the bus or run ten blocks to get here." She rubbed her forehead tiredly. "Like when the streets were flooded and I had that gross cold, and he brought me cough medicine."

"And then insisted he hadn't waded through the streets to buy it, but that he had it in his dorm."

She snorted a little. "That might've worked if he'd remembered to take the receipt out of the bag. But then…that's Lion-O for you."

Jaga kissed her forehead. Cheetara sighed. "I think I'm going to have to say yes to the macaroni offer."

Jaga got up and said, "E-mail is a wonder. You can communicate instantly. And maybe we can save up so we can take a trip down to Pantherle for a visit after a few months."

"You always know what to say," Cheetara murmured. He gently stroked her mane once before heading back into the kitchen.

And Cheetara got up to go to her room and get dressed. Not to mention clear a spot between her Barbie dolls and the kittens' drawings for Doofle and his stitched smile.

* * *

><p>1 – A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. Also known as one of my favorite stories ever.<p>

2 – TobyMac's _Me Without You_. I like that song.

3 – Wingereds are featured the story "Omens" by NoWhere Man X. I recommend it. They're his, not mine, but I got permission. So there.

4 – Yet another of those interesting things that struck me early on in the series. At any point of speaking to or admiring Cheetara, Lion-O always kept his eyes above the neckline. Even in the notorious fireside scene, where all anyone ogles is…well, you know. We all know what the animator was having fun drawing. But his – Lion-O's – gaze was on her eyes. And he's never made comments about her "back" or how she "shot somebody down" or poked fun at a curse that, as a cleric, she believes in. Because it would be a rather poor significant other who would do such things in my own humble opinion.

5 – No offense to Twilight fans. But…man, I really don't like that series. _Really_. Maybe if Bella were less bland and such. No, the term is not "reserved." Mai from Airbender was "reserved." Bella was cardboard. There is a big difference, and it's odd that so many people try to justify one as the other.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Nope. If I did, I can safely say mentions of Ta-She would have popped up in the NS. Oh, and the Code. Gosh I miss the Code. Amoral, antiheroes are so passé anymore, the media's been flooded with them…

Thank you again to all the folks who reviewed. This won't have much LiChee, but Lion-O shall not be totally alone. So don't worry.

This chapter is a tad shorter than usual, but the next one will be chock full of stuff. So don't be blue. Also, the rating has been bumped up to T because of more serious alcoholic references in the next chapter. It's just to be safe.

If you don't like LiChee, feel free to go find something more enjoyable for your evening. Because you don't want to waste time writing a flame just so I'll have a giggle and waste time deleting it, do you? Time is short. Life's but a walking shadow. So let's do some good with it, shall we?

This chap might face revision, but I think I'm finished with it. Just been busy lately, what with work and school and all.

This chapter is dedicated to my grandpa; he passed away November 23rd, the day after Thanksgiving. Interestingly enough, my grandma – whom he spent sixty years married to – died four years prior on Thanksgiving Day. You will be missed, but I know you're in a place that the rest of us can only look forward to for now. Love you Pa; see you later.

* * *

><p>"<em>Tell my mother,<br>Tell my father;  
>I've done the best I can<br>To make them realize  
>This is my life.<br>I hope they understand.  
>I'm not angry, I'm just saying...<br>Sometimes goodbye  
>Is a second chance.<em>

Here's my chance."

_Second Chance, _Shinedown

* * *

><p>"Since 1842, Thunder Enterprises has existed though it was formerly known as Thunder Company. Since Leo Dignitas Rey's beginning of the company, the firstborn male of his line has inherited ownership upon the resignation or death of the previous owner. The line of succession is currently at such:<p>

"Leo Dignitas Rey, ownership beginning in 1842. He retired in 1867 and passed in 1875.

"Pan Sava Rey, ownership beginning in 1867. He retired in 1905 and passed in 1913.

"Persicus Leo Rey, ownership beginning in 1913. He passed unexpectedly in 1945.

"Katan Leo Rey, ownership beginning in 1945. He retired in 1985 and passed in 1986.

"Bleyen Leo Rey, ownership beginning in 1986. He passed unexpectedly in 1991.

"Claudus Leo Rey, ownership beginning in 1991. He passed unexpectedly in 2012.

"Lion-O Leo Rey's ownership begins today, the fifteenth of January of 2013."

Lion-O was focusing on not sweating more than the list of names, but one thing that struck him was how short of a time Grandpa Bleyen had lasted. He had taken over relatively late in life – at forty his only son Claudus had been sixteen. He'd died before Lion-O had been born. He wondered who it would be listening to this after his time. Would it be a son, taking over after he retired? Or would it be another 'passed unexpectedly' on the list? Would it be years or decades or mere months? Who knew, really?

Armani suits were comfortable enough, but the fitting had been a little invasive. He'd never actually been fitted before, but apparently the average suit jacket with matching slacks was not permissible for this. Dad used to have suits like this – dark, snug, severe and official – but the idea that Lion-O could ever wear one of Claudus' suits and have it fit was laughable.

His mane had been slicked back but even now he felt the mousse failing, his mane starting to stick back up. Rigid in his seat, Lion-O remembered feeling his face after one board member had, upon seeing his fur, sat him down in order to roughly draw a coat comb over every bit of exposed fur, including the thin, soft layer on his face. He was still sore.

The oldest board member was a cougar, and he'd been around the company since before Claudus was born. He had graying fur and dark eyes around yellow irises, and Lion-O found it a little disconcerting to meet his gaze as he gestured for Lion-O to approach.

The lobby had been transformed. There were chairs on the waxed tile floor and curtains on the windows and draped across the smooth walls, a podium set up at the top of the stairs and the group of board members ready to swear him in. Lion-O slowly got to his feet and felt every eye on him as he headed up the steps to the podium and stood behind it with the cougar. Concolo. That was his name. Lion-O sighed upon remembering it.

As soon as the ceremony was over, though, the chairs would come down and the people would disperse and the workday would continue as usual.

Tygra too was seated in the front row, arms crossed and one leg neatly folded over his other knee, eyes fixed on Lion-O, waiting for him to stumble. Lion-O resisted the urge to look back at him, instead leveling his gaze on Concolo.

"Lion-O Leo Rey, you stand ready to take ownership of one of the oldest companies in all of Thundera. As the eldest son of direct descent from the line of Leo-"

Concolo didn't flicker but Lion-O saw a few of the others seated in the front row look at each other, disgruntled.

"-You are the only eligible heir. Do you accept this duty and honor, and all the responsibilities that come with it?"

Lion-O exhaled. He thought of Ome N. and Tretierra, the degree he hadn't finished and the friends he'd made. He thought of his own dreams of casting aside the mundane machines and software that Thunder Enterprises developed and instead pursuing theoretical tech. Those dreams were dead and gone now. He couldn't do what he wanted; this was destiny. It didn't matter if he wasn't suited for it or he was unhappy with it. The most he could do would be have a male kid as quickly as possible and wait until he could foist the company off on the kid, force it onto him like this had been forced onto Lion-O. He recoiled from the thought.

_I will be the last person this happens to, _he thought savagely. _I don't care what it takes. One day, I'll have the document ratified. If I ever have a son, I want him to have a choice in his future. I won't force my kids through this._

But the truth didn't change. For the next twenty years at least, he would have to run this place. He would have to become a great CEO before anybody would willingly go along with a change in the documents. In fact, perhaps the best…

With the tangible weight of a chain, Lion-O nodded. "I do." And when Concolo showed him the documents he had to sign to make it official, Lion-O did so with the ring inherited from Leo on his right ring finger. The russet color looked like blood and he felt like he was signing away everything he wanted in favor of what everyone else wanted from him.

He then thought of Cheetara. _You can do this._

Lion-O steeled himself and finished his signature. He would not make Cheetara wrong for all the world.

* * *

><p>"Stocks fell last month because of Claudus' death – it was very emotional, and shareholders got nervous – but that's to be expected. They're climbing up at a weak rate, but we're not in serious trouble right now. Give it some time and let the waters settle, that much will sort itself out."<p>

Lion-O's eyes nearly crossed when he looked at the diagrams and graphs. All the little letters and ink colors and tickers made him blink. The papers were all over the table in front of him, the dark wood polished and gleaming under them. The cats sitting around the table all had suits and grim expressions.

He'd only gotten a little stock market lesson in one of his economics classes; he'd been planning on a more in-depth course later, after he finished his gen eds.

"Um…that's the closing price?" he asked, pointing to one of the numbers.

"Yes. It was down you see. The dividends to shareholders is affected, but it's stable for now. What everyone really wants to hear about is the direction of the company, and what your first move will be. It needs to be defining but defined, if you get my drift. Something to set your theme."

"It needs to be bold, but not crazy," Lion-O replied. Concolo nodded.

The sound of a pen tapping against the table drew his attention and Concolo snorted; Lynxana smiled cheerily. "By all means, continue. This is more interesting than an interview."

She'd barged her way into the office's meeting room. It had a wide, landscape view of the city through the window – it stretched from the ceiling to the floor, the building being a skyscraper – and red carpet and patterns on a black and tan wall. The wood was all shiny, the carpets were spotless…and Lynxana sat down right on the side of the table, giving him a cheeky wink. "Mr. Rey, I do believe you promised I was the first person you'd speak to."

"Just give me a minute." Lion-O didn't say "please;" he didn't want it to sound like a polite request, for polite requests could be refused. Orders were less likely to be. "If you want to get any defined information, I need to have a discussion."

"Fair enough." She examined the walls. "What's with the big red circle pattern? I mean, it's…blank. Your interior decorator should've been sacked."

Concolo put his head close to Lion-O's ear. "Why did you agree to an interview with her?" he murmured. "Of all the people to put up with."

"Personal reasons. She was doing something I had to stop and I made her an offer that was too good to pass up."

"That would have been a very good 'Godfather' reference if you'd said, 'Made me an offer I couldn't refuse,'" Lynxana interjected. Lion-O sighed. "What? Movie references are in right now."

"Just be patient." She examined her claws before waving at Tygra, giving him a wink. Tygra, for once, did not respond with flirtation as he was wont to do, but gave her a cool look and pointedly looked back to the group.

"Basically Lion-O, most of the group thinks you-"

One of the members coughed. "Sir, we traditionally refer to the CEO as Mr. Rey. First name basis tends to breed too much familiarity among employees."

Tygra glanced at him and then his eyes narrowed. Lion-O blinked. "He's my brother. He's called me Lion-O for eighteen years."

"I understand, but given the nature of your occupations now…"

Lion-O shook his head. "No, professionally people should call me Mr. Rey, but Tygra's family. I'm not going to expect-"

"No. Mr. Rey," Tygra said silkily, as if he were saying, "Dog feces." "I was just going to tell you that the board was talking to me while you were away, and was thinking about lowering production on the east coast in order to focus more on the machinery software in the plants locally. Sir."

Lion-O's claws tensed on the table. "Is there higher demand here then?"

Concolo nodded and pointed to one of the charts. "You see, Mr. Rey, there have been several business opening in Pantherle and the surrounding cities, and demand has been increasing for security software, along with computer systems."

Thunder Enterprises had started out a small thing that made machinery, but over the generations it had built into a company that specialized in computer systems ad computers in general. If a place needed a system for employees or software for their business, Thunder Enterprises was the place to go. But it had been that way a long time, and Lion-O remembered that Dad had planned on branching out more to keep up with competition. Perhaps even into energy, considering that was what Black Pyramid had been going into…

"What new direction did my Dad have in mind? Maybe we could take that into consideration." Concolo seemed to approve and one of the oldest board members lifted his head. The table was black and gleaming and his white mane reflected in it.

"Energy. Everyone with a few hundred million is getting into energy these days," he grunted. "You're aware of Mumm-Ra Ammit's recent decisions?"

"Yes. He didn't talk much about it, but I remember him mentioning that energy was going to be the new direction of Black Pyramid." Lion-O paused. "You know he's blocking studies on Thundrillium for some reason?"

There was an awkward kind of cough in the following silence. One member gave Concolo a look and he crossed his arms lightly, leaning on the table. "I've not heard that," he said. Lion-O could feel wariness to him; everybody was nervous that he'd brought up his fancy. Lion-O tapped his fingers on the table. "Where did you hear this?"

"Panthro Fides. A brilliant engineer, and a great friend of my Dad's." Lion-O sat for a moment. "Do any of you know anything about it?"

"It's been dismissed as an alternative energy source by scientists." A dark jaguar said this – Palustri if he remembered, a foreign name – had a cool expression. He was younger than the others, perhaps in his late thirties, fur unmarked by gray. "Interest has been so low that they haven't bothered examining it. I highly doubt it's because of a block on study."

Lion-O glowered. "Are you saying Panthro was lying?"

"He's the one that served in the skirmish in the Plundarr Republic? Let's just say I've heard things."

Concolo gave him a cold look but Lion-O growled. The group tensed. "I guess I imagined the certificates of outstanding work and genius in his classroom and office."

"Just because one is a 'genius' doesn't mean one can't be wrong."

Lion-O imagined Panthro looming over Palustri and tried not to grin. He would dwarf him by two feet. "That's true. But I'd bet on him before I'd bet on almost anyone else. And he actually wants to study Thundrillium if only he could get a sample."

"Well, he should get one then. Because I still don't believe there's a block on the study of the element."

"That depends on what you mean by 'block.'" Everyone looked up at Lynxana, who was still sitting on the table away from the group. She was fiddling with her phone, messaging someone with flying fingers. "Apparently there are requirements for permits for individuals to study it, and scientific firms that have gotten them have been bought out by different companies. Black Pyramid and its associates keep popping up. And since little scientific study has been done on it, there are few businesses willing to take the risk of trying to develop it." Lynxana paused at the stares she was getting. "What? I have connections," she said defensively. "So technically there's a 'block' if you can call it that."

Lion-O felt a little vindicated for Panthro's sake when Palustri scowled. "Can't you wait outside?"

Lynxana leaned back a little, using her figure and her form-fitting black dress to her advantage. She certainly knew how to work what she had, pretty as she was. "What, little old me? I'm just trying to help out." She winked and her thick mane gleamed pleasantly. Palustri's face reddened and he coughed and glanced away. Concolo seemed wryly amused.

Lion-O had ignored this mostly. He considered the pages in front of him, scanning them. Dad wouldn't pay any heed to Thundrillium…but…

"Okay. I think what we need to do is lower production on the east coast to increase it here. We can increase it in the east again with the revenue here. Shipping costs will be a lot lower, so there'll be that much more profit left over for the shareholder dividends. That should help solidify confidence."

Most of this was just what he'd heard in economics class applied to the real world. It was enough to satisfy the board it seemed; he felt their eyes from around the long table easing, muscles relaxing. "However," he added, and the tenseness returned, "I would like to find a way to order a sample of Thundrillium so it can be analyzed."

They stared and Tygra smiled. "Mr. Rey? We don't have any Thundrillium experts on paw. And how would we analyze it?"

Lion-O moved a few sheets of paper aside and said, "It looked like Dad was going to put a lab in the research building across the street from the office building." He pointed out the window to the lean, black building. Their heads swiveled toward it then him. "There's enough room on the top floor to install the necessary safety requirements, and since nothing would have radiation output, it would be permitted there. It looks like he was thinking about solar…"

Lion-O neatly stacked the papers. "We'll have most of the labs dedicated to solar and one dedicated to Thundrillium. If nothing turns up in the next six months for it, we'll leave it be. I'm only wanting one shipment. You get the rest of what you want; sounds like a fair deal to me."

The board seemed to agree, most shrugging a shoulder and nodding their agreement. It was a reasonable request, Lion-O thought. Only Tygra looked at him and shook his head.

"It's harmless enough, and it gives the press something to gossip about," Palustri muttered.

Lynxana was too busy scribbling in a notepad she'd pulled from the dip of her v-neck dress to speak.

* * *

><p>Lion-O was prepared for Tygra's diatribe when they entered Dad's office for the first time since they'd gone through some of his files right after his death.<p>

"Thundrillium. Of all things, Thundrillium." Tygra held the door for Pumyra and then shut it firmly. She ignored his volume and carried her file folders to her conjoined office and began to put them away.

Dad's office had been designed to be spacious for him, so to Lion-O it felt like a football field. The carpet was black and clean – it was vacuumed every night – and the lower part of the walls was black as well, with large red circles about two feet in diameter every few feet. The wall above it was beige and the whole room looked crisp and very business-y. There were a few paintings on the walls – landscapes, safely dull and impersonal, and on the oak desk – along with a scribbled-on calendar – were a few pictures of Leola, Tygra and Lion-O.

Two of Mom, three of Tygra. Lion-O was featured in one of Mom and he was a bit cut off in one of Tygra. Lion-O just looked over the calendar, reading the little notes. _'Note to self: Tygra coming in for Christmas. Wash sheets and blankets so he doesn't have to sleep on the couch.'_

"Tygra. I'm not staking the future of the company on it. I'm just running a little experiment. Everything else is going to go the way Dad would have wanted it. If something promising turns up, I follow where it leads. I'm not in the mood to hear you whine right now," Lion-O muttered wearily, raking his claws through his mane. The tie was uncomfortable and he wanted to undo it, but that would look unprofessional on his first day.

Apparently he didn't have to work nine to five. He could come and go as he pleased, but he had to meet a minimum amount of work, and it was easiest to do that at the office. Lion-O sat down in Dad's chair uncomfortably. It was too big and it squeaked against his suit.

"'Whine?' Excuse me, do I 'whine?'" Tygra demanded curtly.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Pumyra called.

"No. I'd like an answer."

"No, you don't whine. You complain."

Lion-O put his head against the desk, looking through the doorway to Pumyra neat little office. He could see a picture of Bengali on her desk, and the line of her spine was erect and disciplined. "What's the difference?"

"Whining is done about two octaves higher. It's even more grating than complaining, depending on the frequency(1)."

Tygra's brows were irritated. "Thanks for that distinction. So I'm a complainer then?"

"Yes. Whether the complaints have any weight or not is another matter." She began typing and was quiet after that.

Lion-O lifted his head from the desk and said, "Whining, complaining, whatever. The Thundrillium is something I'm going to do. Something for Lynxana to report on. I think she was enjoying her first-paw look at the 'grand first day of Lion-O Rey,'" he continued with a flourish. He planted his face against the desk again. "At least the interview was short."

Tygra shrugged. "Whatever, _Mr. Rey._"

"Don't call me that." Pumyra rolled her eyes visibly and Lion-O lifted his head at something glinting on her neck. It looked like a slim ruby on a black choker. It was interesting, and he tilted his head. "Is that what Bengali got you for Christmas?"

Pumyra gave him a surprised glance and tapped the necklace. "Yes."

"It looks nice." Compliment paid and no longer distracted by the shiny object, Lion-O turned his head and chanced a look at the wall. He frowned; in the corner where the skyscraper window joined the wall there was an outlet. His cell phone was plugged into it. "I found my phone."

Tygra looked at it. "Congratulations. You left it plugged in for a whole month."

"Shut up. We were only here one day after the death. I guess I thought we'd be back sooner or something." His thoughts from then were blurry, and Lion-O slid out of his chair and picked up the cell and went into the file for missed calls. "Looks like I've got…forty-five missed calls and sixteen voice mails."

He began to flick through them. One from the Cleras, several from Tygra on the day he'd gone to the tomb, a couple from professors at Ome N.

Dad. There was one from Dad, dated on the day he died.

Lion-O stared at it for a minute. That didn't make sense. He'd answered Tygra's call and no other that day. Maybe he hadn't heard his phone ring. The sensation of bile heaved in him and he blinked back tears; he'd missed one more chance to talk to Dad about something.

He slowly found the voicemail file and stared at it. "Dad left me a voicemail. The day he died. I…I don't think I checked my phone after your call. I guess I missed it."

Pumyra looked into the room and Tygra's eyes fixed on the phone. "Well play it then." Lion-O had known his brother too long not to hear his voice quiver. Obediently, Lion-O turned up the volume of his cell phone and set the message to play.

"…Hello, Lion-O? It's your father. I'm not sure if I should just try to get ahold of you later, or if I…well, look, call me back as soon as you get this." He sounded harried, annoyed. "Son, I got your message about the gala. I think it was smart of you to scope out the competition. But…"

He sighed. The phone crackled. "Son, I thought I drove it home when you visited that a relationship with a non-lioness is really not acceptable. I'm not saying it's fair, I'm not saying it's right. But I told you as gently as possible that I wouldn't approve if you started seeing Cheetara and I meant it. And then not two weeks after I say that, you're on the phone telling me you love her?"

He sounded like he was moving. "I'm just very disappointed in you son. I know it's not easy to understand right now, but this isn't acceptable. I need to talk to you about it. I think it would be best if you explain to her the family's need for a pureblood lion cub. The trouble this could cause might cause a rift in the family for generations. I'd appreciate if you broke things off with her sooner rather than later."

The ding of an elevator. "I need to cross the street, I have to go. Call me as soon as you get this. And son, I mean it. I'm disappointed that you disobeyed me. I tried to be tactful, but I suppose I'm going to have to be blunt in this."

The message ended. Lion-O listened as he was asked if he wanted to save, replay or delete his message. He hit the button to save it and then he closed his phone.

Tygra and Pumyra said nothing, perhaps realizing the gravity of this moment. Lion-O tried not to hear Dad over and over, telling him he was disappointed, that he had to break up with Cheetara, that Dad didn't accept the relationship…

The last thing he'd thought was that Lion-O had let him down. His heart burned, aching with every throb. His dad had died thinking that he was a disappointment.

And under that pain was a reluctant, howling anger. How could his father care more about what the arrogant, racist Reys thought than Lion-O finding a wonderful, intelligent, kind woman that he loved? Was he that blinded by bigotry? Did he really expect Lion-O to shack up with a relative if necessary, however distant, if it meant a pureblood cub?

_He didn't even give her a chance. The Reys didn't like Mom either…but she was a lioness so it was tolerable…_

Lion-O looked up at Tygra and Pumyra. The latter's face was actually worried – quite a surprise, he _must _look upset – and the former's was distant, uninterested. "He was thinking about how much of a failure I was," Lion-O said, and suddenly he wished he was somewhere else. Anywhere else. "That was what he was thinking when he died."

"Call me crazy, but I don't think that was a departure from his average day." Tygra shrugged once and turned. "He used to say similar things about you whenever I came to visit. You're spitting in the face of tradition. Business as usual for Lion-O."

Lion-O stared. Pumyra's mouth was shut but her brows had risen halfway up her forehead. Lion-O tried to convince himself he was steaming mad, spitting mad – that it was anger pricking at the corners of his eyes.

Standing up suddenly, Lion-O pushed his chair back and put his phone in his pocket. "Where are you going?" Tygra asked.

Lion-O glared at him, and the lines of his face were dark and hard. "You don't tell me where you're going. Why should I tell you where I'm going?"

Tygra tried to impede his way but Lion-O – for once – was not going to be stopped. He twisted his arm away from his brother and stepped around him and was out the door. Pumyra followed him at a jog. "Mr. Rey? Should I just relegate calls to Concolo for the rest of the day?" she asked.

"Sure. He knows more about this than me or Tygra."

"All right. I'll take a look into how to get a shipment of Thundrillium and applying for the permits. The board is already communicating with the eastern coast, so don't worry about that for now."

Lion-O nodded at her and left without looking at Tygra.

There was then a more than slightly frigid pause.

"Mr. Rey. Might I say something?"

Tygra smelled anger, and glanced over to see Pumyra watching him. "Certainly, Ms. Verus."

Her eyes were cool. "You may find it offensive, _sir_. May I speak with impunity?"

His eyes narrowed. "I appreciate honesty."

"Very well." She seemed to consider her words, tapping her chin before she said, finally, "I find you to be a talented and interesting individual. I think Lion-O has a long way to go before he's even adequate at this. And I don't care too much about the relationship between you and your brother. But that was very cruel. And I mean _very. _If there's one thing I can't stand, it's someone who kicks somebody who doesn't have a chance at fighting back. That's a coward's way, and I didn't think Mr. Claudus Rey raised a coward."

She whirled around and trailed primly toward her office door.

Tygra – to his own surprise – smiled crookedly after about five seconds of staring. "I think I could technically fire you for that."

She glanced over her shoulder. "Again, with all _due_ respect?" she said coldly, tone indicating she thought that he wasn't due much. "You gave me impunity. And Lion-O holds the keys as far as all that goes. I'm his secretary, not yours." She lifted her chin almost arrogantly, daring him to reply. "I don't think he'd _let_ you fire me. Be as spiteful to him as you want, but do remember that my career, and _yours_, are at his whim."

Tygra leaned on Lion-O's desk. "Did you ever talk to my father that way?"

"Of course not. He never did anything I disapproved of enough to warrant it."

She smirked. "Have a nice afternoon. Your office is across the hall."

And with that smoldering triumph, Pumyra stalked away and slammed the door, leaving Tygra more than a little annoyed and with anger still stirring.

* * *

><p>Lion-O's fingers alternated between tightly hot and loosely cool around his phone. If he were in Tretierra he would have gone to Berbio's or the Clera home. Or he would have told Snarf about it who would have had some funny, bizarre advice. But Tretierra was far away, and Snarf was at the apartment, trying to find the most comfortable place to nap.<p>

Snarf had been all right with Tygra, although it had been desperately annoying – according to Snarf – to get Tygra to understand when he wanted a magazine to read while he did his business. In fact, Tygra had been a little shocked at one point to walk in to the bathroom and find Snarf sitting on the toilet. "I just thought he went outdoors."

"He does. But if it's cold he'll stay inside and use the facilities." Aside from these little things that Lion-O would have known but Tygra, understandably, was ignorant of, Snarf said his weeks with Tygra had been tolerable. At one point Tygra had even shown him one of the photo albums, and used his computer so Snarf could type messages for him.

How funny. Tygra liked Lion-O's pet-friend-uncategorized creature better than himself.

But anyway. Snarf was at home. And Lion-O wasn't sure what to do.

It was only three in the afternoon. Regular hours would go on until six, and often people stayed after. Lion-O felt the eyes of them employees in offices along the hall to the elevator looking at him, peering out like creatures from forest shrubs and grass. He stepped into the elevator and selected the lobby.

Lion-O felt foolish for getting this upset. So Dad's last thought had been that Lion-O was disobedient, and he had abject disappointment in him. Big deal. It didn't really have any bearing, did it? Lion-O leaned on the wall and sighed. He should've stuck it out and stayed in the office, looked over some files, tried to figure something out. Been productive.

There were files at home he could work on and then send to the office. Just looking through plans and such. Some books he had on economics and business for three-hundred level classes he hadn't had a chance to take. Simple things.

The elevator rang and Lion-O realized this was the one Dad had exited while on his phone, if he had been leaving his office. Lion-O shook his head and tried to look nonchalant as he left.

The lady at the front desk was an austere woman, a yellow cat with a flat expression. "Leaving, Mr. Rey?"

"Yes. I have some files at home I'm working on right now." He didn't know why he felt he had to offer an explanation, but Lion-O passed her and was nearly out the lobby door when he saw someone familiar and paused.

Sitting on one of the black couches rimming the room – one a little ways off from the main desk and the wry woman sitting at it – Bengali had several textbooks beside him and one in his lap. He was chewing on a pencil and Lion-O said, "Bengali? What are you doing out here?"

The cub looked up and seemed surprised. "Hello Mr. Rey. Doing homework."

Lion-O slipped his phone into his pocket. "Why are you doing it right here?" Pumyra's office had space for him to work.

"I'm not allowed up on the days Miss Calica is at the front desk," Bengali whispered. Lion-O looked over at the woman incredulously. "She says I'm a distraction."

Lion-O observed the way Bengali was sitting with his jacket around himself; he must have just gotten off the bus. "Don't you live along the bus route?"

"No, it's too far away from the school. I come here every day. Sis has meetings today, so she'll be here later, but I don't have another way home." Bengali looked down at his papers. "Do you know the definition of protagonist and antagonist in a story?"

"Uh…yeah." Lion-O looked at the page Bengali had open. "The protagonist is the main character. Generally the good guy, although in some stories the villain is the main character. The antagonist is his enemy, whoever – or whatever – stands between them and success."

Bengali stared blankly. "I'm not good at literature. Can I have an example?"

Lion-O sat down on the couch next to him. "You like Superman, right?" Bengali perked up. "Well, Superman would be the protagonist or main character. An antagonist would be whoever tries to stop him from reaching his goal of protecting people. Zod or Lex Luthor, what have you. Technically, even Lois could be every now and then, depending on the story."

"Oh…it's easy when you put it like that." Bengali scribbled down some notes and then asked, "Why are you down here?"

"I was going to leave a little early today. I…got an upsetting message." Bengali didn't pry, only keeping his gaze on Lion-O's face.

But for what? To go sit at home and brood and complain to Snarf?

"Oh. Well…before you go, can you help me some more with my literature? I'm a math person, and Sis won't be down for a while," Bengali asked shyly. Lion-O felt a familiar sense of being too nervous and awkward to ask for assistance. And being alone, trying and trying to figure out schoolwork until it gave him a headache.

Lion-O nearly said yes and then stopped. He checked his phone for the time and said, "You know what? Why don't you ask your sister if she'd mind if you came over? I could help you do your homework and you wouldn't have to hang out here all day."

Bengali seemed surprised. "Are you sure? I'm not allowed up to her office."

Lion-O's brows rose. "I'm the boss, aren't I? If you want to go to your sister's office, I say you can. And what I say goes."

He heard the lady mutter in protest. Bengali hopped up, scattering a few pencils before picking them up and going for the elevator. "I'll ask! You're not a stranger, so maybe it'll be okay!"

As it turned out, after a little persuading – Bengali begged and hugged and Pumyra eventually caved – Lion-O and Bengali ended up taking the bus to his apartment. During this, Lion-O was treated to the regulations under which they would have to abide for Pumyra to not get mad.

"I have to call her when we get there so she knows we got there okay, and every hour after that. And I'm not allowed to have too much caffeine. And I'm not allowed to watch any television until my homework is done. And though as her employer and a relative of Claudus she trusts you implicitly, if anything happens to me on your watch, she knows where you sleep at night."

They got off the bus. "Don't take this the wrong way, but Pumyra seems a tad obsessive-compulsive," Lion-O told him. "She's possibly the most honest person I've ever met." Bengali nodded airily.

"I guess. She just wants to protect me."

The street smelled of exhaust and the clear air of the apartment building was a welcome shift. Bengali looked around at everything as Lion-O unlocked the door and went in. Putting his jacket on the rack, Lion-O called, "Snarf, I'm back. Bengali's here too."

Snarf trotted into the hall, meowing at the two. Bengali smiled at the sight of Snarf. "Hi Snarf. How are you today?"

"Snarf-Snarf." Tail swaying happily, Snarf bounded up to Lion-O and Bengali, rubbing against Lion-O's ankle before repeating the motion against the tiger. Bengali stooped and picked up the pet, beaming.

"That's good. Lion-O said it was okay for me to come over today, because Pumyra had to go to a meeting with some of her informants later," Bengali explained, "and I didn't want to stay in the lobby."

Snarf cocked his head. "Snar-Snarf?"

"Yeah, the lady in the lobby wasn't so nice. She made me stay by the entrance for half an hour." Again Lion-O marveled at Bengali's ability to communicate with Snarf. "She's big on protocol."

"Snarf. Snarf-Snar; Snarf?" That had been something along the lines of, "Mean lady. Hey, I'm starving; are you gonna make dinner or do I have to try working the stove again?" Lion-O shook his head firmly.

"No, you're forbidden from using the stove after that one time at the Cleras. We couldn't get rid of the burnt hair smell for two days. Do you have anything in mind?"

Snarf let Bengali stroke his back as he shook his head and Lion-O entered the kitchen, finally taking off his tie and sticking it in his pocket. The clothing wasn't restrictive, per se, but there was a cloying element to it. Bengali followed him meekly, as if he weren't used to being in another's home. "You hungry?"

"Oh, I'm okay." Lion-O and Snarf both heard the awkward fib.

Lion-O opened the freezer and said, "Yeah, okay…well, if you were I could put one of these frozen pizzas in the oven. But me and Snarf can't eat a whole one by ourselves."

He managed not to jump when Bengali popped his head into the freezer next to him. "Does it have pepperoni?"

"…Yes, actually."

Holding Snarf like a teddy, Bengali said, "I guess I'm _kinda _hungry…"

About thirty minutes and two glasses of grape juice found Bengali sitting on the floor in the living room with his textbooks sprawled on the ground with Lion-O sitting on the couch, reading files and marking them with notes, sipping juice through a straw. Contrary to his claims, Bengali – after Lion-O insisted he wasn't interested in eating any more than a couple slices of the pizza – ate four slices. He seemed a little embarrassed afterwards, but considering that he was tall and probably just beginning the marvelous adventure of puberty and fiery metabolism, Lion-O only found it funny.

Looking at him, Lion-wondered how he'd ever mistaken Bengali for being sixteen. He tended to stick his pencil eraser in his mouth when he was thinking, and he had big paws and was gangly, and had some childish mannerisms. He folded his arms around his knees and rested his chin on them, enjoying the warmth of the room.

Still, puberty was being a lot kinder to him than it had been to Lion-O. He could easily see Bengali being as good-looking as Tygra when he grew up. Another striped heartbreaker…

Bengali blinked at his paper. "What's a deus ex machina?"

"Well, literally it means 'god from the machine.' It's kind of like something a character pulls out of nowhere, like a miraculous solution or tool. Usually has little to no basis. Like…oh, say, if Clark Kent was getting beat by Kryptonite and then all of a sudden he whipped out a rock that counteracts Kryptonite perfectly. If it wasn't developed and hinted at throughout the story, it would be pretty lame. Most deus ex machinas are considered bad." Lion-O scribbled a calculation in the margin of his page. "Some people think any new ability is a deus ex machina, but I think that if it's properly developed it has its place."

Bengali wrote down something and then looked back up. "Mr. Rey?"

Lion-O made a face. "I'd rather you call me Lion-O. I don't really like that Mr. Rey stuff."

Bengali's expression was quiet. "I thought only friends could call you that."

"Well…we're that much, aren't we?" Looking surprised, Bengali looked at his textbooks again and didn't respond, as if thinking hard about that. Lion-O wasn't sure if he was hurt by this exactly, but he looked back to his work.

_"…wants to increase production by three thousand units a quarter and lower price by two percent for three months. Need to finish newest software upgrade by February twelfth and begin solar energy panel improvement by twentieth."_

It was all very dull and Lion-O wrote down, "One Thundrillium lab also for six months." He sighed. Pumyra could find out how to get a shipment if anyone could. Lion-O's head was spinning from all the information he was getting. It was all too much for a first day, and he'd even left early.

"Why are you the boss?"

Bengali's sudden question made him drop his pen. "Huh?"

Shifting onto his front, Bengali rested on his stomach and elbows. "No offense, but…you don't seem to like being a boss. And you're really young. Sis told me it's in the rules that you've got to take over, but…that seems so weird. Is there really nothing you can do about it?"

Snarf sighed and rolled over on the cushion beside Lion-O. He gently rubbed Snarf's tummy and said, "It's a very old document. The Reys would lose their minds if they thought I wasn't going to take over. And it's basically what I was born for." Lion-O tapped his recovered pen on the page. "I remember Dad used to tell me stories about crazy stuff the family did to have pureblood lion males. I think one guy had four daughters before he had a son that could take over, and the second his mate had a girl he was always wanting to try for a boy as soon as they could. And one guy's wife couldn't have kids at all, so he divorced her because she wouldn't let him have relations with another lioness while they were married."

Bengali's eyes grew round. Lion-O felt bad for saying this, as if he were telling Bengali sordid things about the world and taking the youth from him. But Bengali did not seem too upset after a moment, so he must have known some of it. "Anyway, my point is that this is basically the thing the Reys have always thought about." He smiled ruefully. "Not that I agree with a lot of it. Maybe if Dad had tried to ratify the document…"

The phone call returned to his attention but he just shrugged it away. It wasn't important anymore.

"So that's what Sis meant." Bengali saw him tilt his head and added, "I told her you don't seem to like the boss stuff. You seem a little too…nice."

He looked at his textbooks. "I mean, Mr. Claudus Rey was pretty nice from what I knew of him. But he had a mean side. I guess we all do, and we all need some toughness. But you don't fit the st…ster…I can't remember the word. The thing you think somebody is because of a group they fit into."

"Stereotype."

"Yeah!" Bengali grinned. "You'd be a good language arts teacher."

Lion-O found himself smiling back. "It was one of my favorites. I always read a lot as a kid. I wanted to be an inventor though." Snarf rolled over and hopped into his lap and lay against his front, lazily soaking up the warmth. "Pretty much everybody knows I'm not going to be a good CEO. I'm not suited to run a place like Thunder Enterprises."

Smile turning to a frown, Bengali shook his head. "Maybe not. But maybe you'll be better than the rest." Opening his next book, he added, "I think being an inventor would be cool. Or an engineer. But I'm doing really bad in English this nine weeks. I don't think I could ever get grades high enough to go to college for the study I'd like. I'm a 'poor reader.'"

Lion-O cocked his head. "I thought you aced your exams."

"Yeah. But I had to study and study and study for English and Social Studies. I studied all night long for them, and the teachers had given reviews that were just like the tests." Suddenly brooding, Bengali looked at his papers. "I like algebra, but the teacher gets mad because I don't always show my work. But…I can skip some of the steps, so I figure, why write it all out?"

"Ah, they just want to know where you're getting the answer from. Make sure you're not just cheating and looking at the answers." Lion-O put his files aside and shifted to the floor. "Let me see the English work; maybe I can help with that much, anyway…"

Bengali was like the kid brother he'd never had. He was constantly impressed by Lion-O's knowledge of literature terms and vocab – Lion-O felt he wasn't much higher than average, but it was more than enough for a sixth grade course – and he asked questions and listened raptly. He reminded Lion-O of himself as a young cat, hanging off of Tygra's every word when his brother could spare the time for him. He felt strangely protective of Bengali in this, and wondered if this was what Panthro felt like when he taught. It was pleasant, and ruefully he wondered if he might have enjoyed teaching after all.

"Does Pumyra help you with your homework?" he asked later, helping Bengali slide the finished worksheets and pages into his folders.

"As much as she can. But she works late a lot. The job is really good, but she puts everything she has into it. I'd rather just spend time with her, so I don't always ask for help when I need it."

Did she get much vacation time? Dad was always careful to try not to overwork employees. He'd have to look into it. Pondering this, Lion-O then asked, "What about your parents? Can they help you with your lessons?"

Bengali's eyelids dipped and he seemed to focus on something on Snarf's back. "I don't have parents at home. It's just me and Pumyra."

Lion-O wanted to ask him another question but Bengali seemed restless, so he changed the topic. Eventually Bengali finished his homework and Lion-O finished his files. "You know, I think I've got some of the old Superman animated episodes on DVD," Lion-O said.

When Tygra got home, he found Lion-O and Bengali talking excitedly about different Superman series, and Bengali had been lent several movies of series older than himself. "So, another fantasy lover." He said it evenly enough, but Bengali's face became even as if he sensed the dislike. "Well, Lion-O, it'll please you to know that your first day didn't result in Thunder Enterprises combusting. Tomorrow Pumyra will give you an update on the shipments. Hopefully you'll be able to tolerate staying at the office a whole day tomorrow."

The three watched Tygra head into his room. When he was gone Bengali looked at Lion-O. "Why is he so mean?"

Lion-O pinned the tip of his tongue between his teeth in thought. "That's complicated. Long story short, he wanted to run the company. He'd be better at it. But because of weird rules, he can't. So he's mad at me. And he thinks I'm too dumb and lazy to run things."

Bengali frowned. "You're neither of those. You've been working this whole time."

Lion-O smiled faintly. "Yes. But it's not up to his standard, so it's not good enough."

"Snarf," Snarf murmured, batting Bengali's paw and rolling over. Bengali rubbed Snarf's stomach and chewed his lower lip.

Pumyra picked him up later, and Lion-O watched her, noting she had a nearly compulsive tendency to check Bengali over and smooth his fur. "Thank you for looking after him. I keep telling him to ignore the lobby secretary; Mr. Claudus Rey never cared if he came up to my office to sit."

Lion-O shook his head. "I'll tell her to let Bengali come up. I liked having the company." Bengali beamed and waved farewell.

"I'll bring back the movies by Friday. Thanks for the pizza."

Lion-O shut the door behind them and headed back into the living room to see Tygra lingering in the doorway to the hall to their rooms. "Look, I got two folders of files done. If you're going to gripe at me, at least look over them first," Lion-O said curtly.

"That's not what I want to talk about. I had to wait for Bengali to leave." His brother sat down on the sofa beside Snarf, who climbed onto the back of it and seated himself expectantly. "The lizard that killed Dad would like to talk to us. The police want your permission to arrange a meeting three weeks from now."

Lion-O felt a little dizzy all of a sudden. Talking to the person that had taken Dad from them? Lizard or otherwise, he was a murderer, and Lion-O's heart tightened in agonized fury. "…Why does he want to talk to us?"

Sitting down beside Tygra, Lion-O let Snarf climb onto his shoulder and snuggle into his neck, presumably seeking a cozy spot. "They say he wants to talk to us about something important, why he confessed. A lawyer will be present, and I think his attorney will be too." Tygra leaned back, brooding. "Like he deserves an attorney."

There wasn't much to say to this. Lion-O absently felt for his phone. Bengali had been a pleasant distraction from the jarring message, but now he was distracted less pleasantly. He didn't know anything about the person that had taken Dad away; would he be visibly violent, cold? Would he be a sniveling, lying cad?

"He'll get life in prison, right?" Lion-O asked.

Tygra nodded. "That much at least. They're thinking capital punishment, when we pursue the matter into court. We've got the influence."

Capital punishment. Death. Lion-O weighed this solemnly. He believed the death penalty was an option for the worst of the worst, but it still jolted in his stomach to think of someone dying.

Tygra seemed to have no uncertainty or compunction at all. "I want to see him. He took Dad away from us, and I want to know what he could possibly say." He got up and added, "Tomorrow, you need to stay at the office. The last thing the employees need is to see you freaking out and running home with Bengali again."

Spine stiffening, Lion-O, "I'm staying tomorrow. I just needed time." Tygra shrugged and headed to his room appearing again with a duffle bag.

"I'm going to the gym for a while. I have some aggression to work out. Don't wait up."

Lion-O went to bed at ten and lay awake on the mattress until he heard Tygra come in at one in the morning and shower. Then he slept uneasily, mind shifting between Bengali and his smiling innocence and the smell of pizza and a faceless lizard armed with a gun, sitting in a chair with an IV stabbed into his wrist.

* * *

><p>Kit stared up at the ceiling. "You know, if you connect those old spots right there, they kinda look like a chicken leg."<p>

Kat tilted his head, trying to see. "I think it looks more like a yam."

"Naw, it'd have to be fatter on the skinny end. That's why it has to be a drumstick."

Cheetara closed the cupboard. "Look, why don't you both go play with some of the stuff from Christmas? You can't have gotten bored with it already."

"No, we haven't. But we don't feel like playing with 'em right now," Kat said vaguely.

Kit sighed. "Yeah. They kind of remind us of…y'know."

Cheetara opened another door, looking for something to fix. Her eyes closed for a second. "I know what you mean. But that doesn't mean we should mope around. He'll visit as soon as he can. Maybe we can drive down there in a few months. It'd take longer, but it would be cheaper that way."

Jaga entered the kitchen and said, "Don't bother looking for the alfredo mix. We had that last Tuesday when you went to pick up kibble."

Irritated, Cheetara shut the door. "Well, what should we do about dinner then? I was going to the grocery tomorrow, but there's absolutely nothing here right now."

Jaga peered into the refrigerator. "We could eat out."

Kit sat up. "Can we eat someplace new? I want to expand my…it's either palette or palate."

"They sound about the same," Kat mumbled, getting up as well. "I'm hungry enough to eat anything."

Cheetara leaned against the counter. "You know, I've actually been meaning to take you guys to a certain diner. Lion-O and I ate there a couple of times, and I think you'd like it. The people who run it are completely wonderful."

The kittens – at the mention of Lion-O's name – had tensed. "Well…if that's okay with you," Kit murmured.

Seeing their faces, Cheetara smiled and said, "Guys, it's all right. I miss him just like you do, but that doesn't mean I can't do fun things that remind me of him. We'll see him soon." She headed through the hall. "Come on, get your jackets! You'll like this place, I'm sure."

The truth was that though she didn't feel like crying or sitting around and doing nothing, Cheetara had the unpleasant feeling of missing a paw lately. She could function and do things – she'd been her own person before Lion-O and she was still her own person while dating him – but the knowledge that he was so far away and wouldn't pop in to help out or visit made it feel like her arm ended at the wrist and she was doing everything with something essential out of commission.

She wished she would just get a little weepy and keep moving. Anything was better than this sensation. But at the same time, it showed her that she really did want to keep in contact with Lion-O, and it made her more determined to e-mail him and call him.

It was this line of thinking that was interrupted when they arrived at Berbio's, and the kittens were enchanted by the colors and lights and berbils.

"Aw…he's so cute!" Kit said when Bebo rolled up to meet them and bounced into Cheetara's arms.

"Hello Bebo. It's nice to see you again," Cheetara said, hugging him. He waved his arms happily.

"Pretty Cheetara bring new friends to eat at Daddy's restaurant! Bebo like new friends!" He was placed on the ground and looked up at the kittens. "Bebo is friends with nice Lion-O and pretty Cheetara. Who are you?"

"I'm Kit, and this is my brother Kat," Kit explained. She gestured to Jaga and said, "That's Jaga. He's kinda like our great-grandpa."

Jaga nodded at Bebo. The berbil bounced and curled into a ball, rolling back toward the kitchens, squealing for Bella. "Mommy, pretty Cheetara bring new friends!"

Bella approached with Bebo in tow and seated them. "Bella come back in few minutes. Look over menus please. We have hot chocolate with Candy Fruit syrup added at half price for next hour," she said kindly. The bell of the diner rang again and she bustled off to meet the new arrival and seat him.

"They're so cool!" Kat said, watching Bebo roll around with Bill, as Cheetara noted. "I thought dates were supposed to be at fancy, boring places."

Cheetara opened the menu and showed him the lists. "Only if you're dating a fancy, boring person. We prefer to have fun." Kit and Kat oohed and aahed over the various treats and meals available, and when Bella returned Kit requested a Cub's Chili Bowl. Kat got a Beary Ro-Burger, and Cheetara – Jaga following suit – ordered the chili. Upon returning with the food, Bella examined Cheetara.

"Cheetara is very pretty. But like Lion-O…too skinny. Need meat on bones." She put down the dishes and Cheetara laughed. "Enjoy food."

The meal was warm and everyone loved it. Cheetara – at the beseeching of the kittens – ordered one Candy Fruit for the four of them to split. Even so, the kittens became jittery and giggly, bouncing in their seats. Jaga and Cheetara had to listen attentively to understand as they jumped from topic to topic.

"And the chili and candy are sooo good, and I think berbils are awesome, and I want to come here again. Hey, they gave me a swirly straw, I love swirly straws!" Kit was silent for a moment as she slurped through the tube.

"Yeah, I can't believe you didn't bring us here sooner. Lion-O and you came here twice before us, no fair! Hey, bet I can drink this before Kit can!" Kat started sucking down his drink, stopping now and then to pant.

Cheetara and Jaga glanced at each other. "Never again."

"'Scuse me." Cheetara looked up and her eyes met a belt buckle. She then lifted her head to see a panther standing beside the table. He was massive, built like a tank, and his jaw was solid like a rock. "Did that kid mention 'Lion-O?'"

"I think so. It's hard to tell when they're this hyper," Cheetara said, kittens gleefully bouncing in their seats. Warily, she eyed the stranger. "Why? Do you know him?"

"He was one of my best students is all. Name's Panthro Fides." He extended a paw to Jaga, who seemed to recognize him. "Seen you once or twice around campus, haven't I?"

"Probably. One never stops teaching, even in retirement." Jaga's tone was cordial and Cheetara relaxed. "A pleasure to meet you. I've heard of your work. Quite brilliant."

Panthro accepted the compliment with a grunt. He squinted at Cheetara and seemed to grin about something. "Lemme guess…Cheetara?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, I don't recall meeting you…just hearing of you," she said, surprised.

"Lucky guess. I knew Lion-O was dating a Cheetara Clera that he was nuts about." The statement made her heart warm and hurt at the same time. "I got on him for ignoring a lecture and doodling your name on his paper."

"Hee hee…sounds like Lion-O," Kit interrupted. "Hey, you're really tall. Is your whole family tall? Are you a family of tall, tall people that work out? 'Cuz you look like you work out. Hey, I heard you broke a guy's leg in the military, is that true?"

Panthro, for all his physical presence, looked a little unnerved at the rapid fire babble. "You'll have to excuse the kittens," Jaga said lightly. "They just had Candy Fruit."

As Jaga tried to quiet the kittens, Cheetara took in Panthro's face and recalled what Lion-O had said about him. He'd liked the classes in spite of the workload, and Panthro Fides had been good to Lion-O. He met her gaze and crossed his arms. "So…he's gone back to Pantherle."

She nodded. Panthro shifted and – at Jaga's behest – pulled up a chair. "I'm gonna miss that kid. I've got a load of new students and half of 'em don't know a schematic from a spark plug. He wasn't Einstein or anything, but he was still smart. And he gave it his all."

The oddness of this – Panthro Fides being here, talking about Lion-O this way - made Cheetara realize that he really _did _miss Lion-O. She empathized with this and rested her chin in her paw. "Yeah. I miss him too. We all do."

To admit it – even to a virtual stranger – was surprisingly easy, but it made the reality of it all so much thicker. If Lion-O were here he'd sit next to her and try to get the kittens to calm down. He'd probably give up when Jaga took over, and he'd lean back and run his fingers through his mane. And then she'd hold his paw and he'd look surprised about it before smiling.

But he wasn't. Cheetara realized Panthro was speaking and said, "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"Just thinking out loud. I heard they got the murderer in Pantherle. Turned himself in." Cheetara straightened and Panthro examined his claws. "It's weird. I ain't used to missing students. And more than that, I'm worried about the kid."

"Yeah, I'm worried too. I'm so worried…I gotta go pee real bad!" Kat shot out of his seat, tail puffed out to three times its usual size, and sprinted for the bathroom.

Kit tapped her fingers on the table and shrieked. Well, more of a breathy squeak, as Jaga had told her to keep her voice down. "I got an idea! We should e-mail him! Let's do it when we get home! Then he can get up in the morning and read it and be all happy and then write us back! And then we can write him back! And then we'll figure out some kind of video messaging thingy, and we can talk to him, only when it glitches it'll look all funny and it might freeze his face-"

"That's a good idea Kit. The e-mail, anyway," Cheetara said, blinking a few times. "Slow down though, you're really confusing me."

"Slow down? Okay! I'll go so slow snails will pass me up. Turtles will shuffle by. Grass will grow faster. Hey, a nickel!" Kit ducked under the table and Panthro looked at Cheetara.

"They yours? You look kinda young for kids that age." She shook her head.

"Adopted." _Sort of._

Panthro seemed uncomfortable for a moment. "Hey…if you're gonna message the kid, tell him I say hey, would you? His school e-mail's been shut down since he isn't enrolled anymore."

Cheetara resisted the urge to smile. "I could just give you his personal e-mail. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

He grunted. Taking this as a yes, she scribbled it on a clean napkin, hijacking a pen from Jaga's breast pocket in order to do so, and gave it to him. He had to stare at it for a minute.

"'Thunderdragon1985 at gahoole dot com?(2)"

Cheetara couldn't stifle a laugh. "He's an eccentric nerd. And I love him for it."

* * *

><p>Lion-O's first week was a rough one, but not terrible. No, it was only in his third week that things really started sucking.<p>

The labs were set up for solar energy save for the one Lion-O had managed to snag for Thundrillium. The research team had given him funny looks when he told them about the odd item they would be studying and working on, but it was all the same to them; they were paid to follow orders and report on what they found.

The bewildering state of affairs made Lion-O want to panic sometimes, but it was manageable fear. Sometimes he would escape to the bathroom just to lock himself in a stall and stand there, pulling out a copy of a favorite book to read a funny, light part. It soothed him often, and he found himself able to think better. If people thought he had a bladder problem, hey, who cared?

Bengali came up to the every day now, sitting in Pumyra's office in one of the chairs. He liked to talk to Bengali when he came in and Bengali was pleased with this. Pumyra seemed to watch them with a little bewilderment some days, but she never asked a question, so perhaps it was nothing.

Tygra remained the same. That was comforting in a way; he could always be relied upon to have a snarky comment and a couple of intelligent ideas.

The highlight of his week was an e-mail from Cheetara and the others. When he spotted it in his inbox, he had to resist the urge to jump up and dance. Literally.

That would have looked a tad odd at the office.

_"Hey Lion-O. This part is from Kat and Kit. Cheetara's typing while we dictate. Things are okay here, but we miss you real bad. A froog peed on Cheetara the other day. I'll bet you would have grabbed it before he could if you were here. Oh, Cheetara took us to Berbio's and it was really yummy. Bebo and Bill and Bella are super nice, but we're not allowed to have Candy Fruit again until we get older. We go crazy. How are you and Snarf? How is it being a boss? Do you like coffee yet?_

_"Lion-O, this part is from Jaga. I hope you're doing well, and we haven't been pestered by the media, so your methods worked. Business is running smoothly, although everyone here misses you terribly. Make sure Snarf is eating a balanced diet. And find him a good veterinarian down there."_

Lion-O had already done this. Snarf hated the vet here but behaved well enough for the poor cat to try to figure out what he was. He got a clean bill of health because the vet couldn't see anything wrong with him and sent him home with a grooming and a claw trimming. Lion-O had gotten Snarf a black collar and tag just for the occasion. It went over badly and was removed once they got home.

And his stomach had turned over again in delight to receive the last part of the message in particular.

_"On to my part. Hi Lion-O, it's Cheetara. How is everything? I know you've been busy, but call us or e-mail us as soon as you can. We miss hearing and seeing you. Things just feel kind of empty without you around. I've been able to go out in public without being hounded; did Lynxana go back to Pantherle? And how is Tygra? Are you all holding up okay? The way we're seeing it, we'll be able to clear our schedules and save up enough to head to Pantherle in a few months. I can't wait until then._

_"Stay safe and keep your head up. It's going to be all right._

_"I love you. _We_ love you. Say hi to Snarf and Tygra for us."_

His eyes lingered on the line that said, "I love you. _We _love you." It made his chest warm and he leaned on his desk, ignoring everything else as he typed a response. He had to go back and edit it multiple times to cut out babbling paragraphs and answer the questions they'd sent, and send affectionate updates.

He'd just finished the message when the door opened and Pumyra came in. "Mr. Rey? The Thundrillium shipment arrived. It was surprisingly hard to get hold of, but it's in the lab. I thought perhaps you'd want to come see it."

Lion-O clicked send and got up. His stomach started knotting in on itself and he followed Pumyra, who had an oddly distracted look on her face. Two elevator trips and a dash across the street found them in the labs, and he finally asked, "What's wrong?"

"Just thinking. You said there was a block on the element…no offense, but I thought you were just being dramatic. But I had to jump through hoops to get this shipment. Not security hoops – it's stable and not radioactive – but legal ones. I had to apply Thunder Enterprises to strange permits, and it was peculiar. And Black Pyramid did pop up several times." Pumyra seemed surprised when he opened the door and held it for her. "Anyway. This is the lab. What do you think?"

It was spotlessly white and clean, machinery lining the walls in pale silver. He knew what a few of them did but the others were all foreign. He wished Panthro were there; he'd have known what they did. The ceilings were high and the room was long, and their footsteps echoed. "It's bigger than I expected."

"You were expecting some dinky high school classroom?" Lion-O jumped; Tygra had been examining one of the machines and only now stepped out from behind it.

"What are you doing here?"

"I figured I'd see what all the fuss is about," Tygra said. "See what this magical little element looks like."

Lion-O looked at the middle of the room and saw a metal box with a hinge, about as big as a hope chest. "I ordered a twenty-pound sample. It wasn't very expensive. I detailed it all in the list I gave you," Pumyra said. Lion-O remembered it with a little effort; the sight of the box had made his heart jump. "Protocol demands we wear gloves, but considering there's nothing toxic about it, anything else is our call." She opened one of the drawers of the file folder by the door and took out three pairs, tossing them to Lion-O and Tygra before sliding her own pair on. They were thick and black, and Lion-O's fingers felt ungainly in them.

"Yay, a rock that does nothing. I'm so glad," Tygra said sarcastically as his brother rested his paw on the crate.

Lion-O paused. "Is it too much to ask for you to shut up, just this once? Just give me one minute to be excited about something?" he asked bluntly. Not waiting for another comment he opened the case and reached in with a gloved paw to touch a piece of Thundrillium for the first time.

It glittered like a precious stone, all sharp angles and raw facets. Lion-O turned it over, fascinated as he realized it was glowing. Even Tygra looked interested, and Pumyra blinked several times.

"It's…prettier than I expected," she admitted. The color was rich, somewhere between pink and magenta, and Lion-O realized it was warm. Soothing even. He held it out to her and she cradled it carefully in her gloves. "How odd. It's warm. I wonder how it generates heat…"

"The research I've read thinks that Thundrillium operates on an entirely different level from most minerals. Maybe even breaks the current known rules of physics. But nobody has studied it…_yet_. So we might rewrite a few textbooks before this is done," Lion-O said admiringly. What he wouldn't give to have Panthro here right now…

"So it might very well be pouring cancer into us, known radiation or no," Tygra said idly, accepting the rock. His awe had dimmed in about twenty seconds. Lion-O was too distracted to worry about it though; Panthro would love this, and that had taken him mentally to Tretierra, and he heard the words of the Cleras and Panthro Fides as if they were really saying them.

_"Wow, it's so sparkly! Lion-O, I've never seen anything so pretty!"_

_"You're such a girl, Kit. Hey, think if I threw one at something it'd blow up?"_

_"How very interesting…I always wanted to go into chemistry and physics, but between physiology and my doctorate and my Masters in theology and my studies in veterinary practice and my globetrotting ventures, I just never had the time."_

_"How much you want for a sample, kid? I need to get it under a microscope pronto."_

_"You did it, Lion-O. I knew you would. There's something to this."_

Lion-O shook his head briskly. "Yeah, okay. Wow. So, we're getting the experts together, right? Our analysts and researchers?"

Pumyra nodded. "The list is on your desk. Along with the guest list for the celebratory dinner for your succession."

Lion-O looked away from the Thundrillium. "Come again?"

She gave him a blank look. Tygra put the stone back into the box and shut it. "The celebration. For your succession. You know, that big, traditional party that's thrown for every new boss of Thunder Enterprises ever since Leo himself," he said.

Lion-O could remember nothing about this. "A party? I…we have to have one? Who do we invite?"

"Virtually every business partner, business competitor, and city official you can think of. It's a big to do. I think a senator came to Mr. Claudus Rey's, one that became president. It's quite an occasion. I thought you would remember me mentioning it." Pumyra looked a little calculating now, as if judging Lion-O's reaction and ignorance as…very, very bad.

He felt the excitement of the Thundrillium's arrival dimming. A party? He'd never had to be really present for a Thunder Enterprises gathering before. And now he was going to be the center of attention? Lion-O suddenly felt a little nauseous. "Sorry, I don't remember anyone mentioning that. When is it?"

"Four weeks," Tygra said. He was removing his gloves. "You haven't forgotten our 'conference' with the lizard, have you? It's in two days."

"No, I didn't forget that." Lion-O looked down at the closed box. "Well, I guess that's all the fun I can have today." He took off his gloves and set them aside. "We're inviting competitors?"

"It's traditional. Have to pretend we can all get along." Tygra took Pumyra's gloves for her and put all three pairs in a desk drawer. "We'll worry about that later. I'm more interested in the lizard. I want to hear whatever he has to say."

And that was the end of it. Lion-O looked back at the box and wished again that Panthro could see it.

And then he later wondered what he'd have to do to ship a sample of it to Tretierra. He met the team that would be studying it a few hours later, most cats and birds, and most of them seemed more than a little snobby. These weren't the kindly, easygoing trainees like Tor and Jagana; these clearly thought they had it all figured out, and they gave him condescending looks when he explained his interest in Thundrillium.

But that wasn't what made things worse. No, that wasn't remotely it.

* * *

><p>Prison didn't feel exactly like Lion-O had expected. He'd always known it wasn't bare cement walls and black bars and people banging on the metal with tin cups, but the fact that it was brightly lit and clean was a comfort to him. He didn't see any inmates on the route they took.<p>

Tygra led the way and Lion-O still felt a furious unease in his chest. Tygra had been the one to talk to the warden and assure him that yes, they wanted to meet the lizard's request. The killer's name was Cameleo and Lion-O's stomach clenched repeatedly as he wondered what the lizard would look like.

The guard escorting them was a tall black cat with a long tail, and he had bright green eyes. He led them to a small room with a table and five chairs, and he stood to the side, letting them sit beside each other. "They're bringing him down now. Your lawyer came a little early."

Lion-O didn't know they had a lawyer. Glancing at Tygra told him the one that had selected him. "Most people wouldn't want to deal with this kind of person," the guard said quietly.

"You'll find we're the exception to every rule," Tygra said smoothly. Lion-O shook his head slightly and jerked his chin up at the sound of the door opening again.

A gray wolf brought in two more cats and a reptile. He nodded at the black cat and leaned on the opposite wall, arms crossed as he surveyed the group. One cat was orange and striped, a little on the portly side, and the other was black and white and orange, and thin as a rail. Both were wearing suits with ties, and the chubbier one sat across from the Reys, nodding at them.

The lizard was a chameleon, dark green and scaly, and Lion-O was a little unnerved that his eyes were so large and roved easily to look at the two of them. His eyelids seemed to swallow all but his pupil, and it was hard to read the goblin-esque face. Lion-O met the gaze and heard a clink; when the reptile sat down his cuffs jangled on the table. The bright orange of his jumpsuit contrasted with his green scales, and Lion-O listened as Tygra greeted their lawyer.

"Hello Mr. Rey. I've heard a lot about you," he said softly. The long, reptilian tongue flashed as he spoke, a soft hiss. "My name is Cameleo."

"I'd just like to say," said the orange cat suddenly, "that you don't have to answer any questions you don't want to. Nor can anyone threaten you."

"Hmph." The slimmer cat sat down after muttering something to Tygra. "The name's Lurus. My associate's name is Mack. Let's just hear the story. It's not enough that these two have suffered enough already; now he's taking more time from them?"

Cameleo flinched, looking down at his interlinked fingers. Lion-O watched his tail curl and said, "You wanted to talk to us."

He nodded. The guards stood to the side, deceptively disinterested. Lion-O just kept looking at Cameleo. "First of all, I need to tell you that I'm sorry."

Cameleo's soft voice affected the impact of the words. Lion-O blinked three times and Tygra's shoulders tightened, but the statement didn't exactly make much sense until several seconds later. /it wasn't what either of them had expected to hear. "I took your father from you. And for that, there is nothing in the world I can do to ever make it right. I'm ashamed and deserve to be here."

Lion-O looked at Tygra, whose face was even. Cameleo had confessed his guilt openly before this, and he didn't know what impact that would have on his sentence. Pantherle hadn't executed anyone in years, but…

"Cameleo," Mack began, nose twitching. There were dark freckles on it. Cameleo raised a clawed paw and silenced him.

"I'm no liar. I'm going to tell them all I told you." He unfurled his tail and curled it again after stretching. "I confessed to the crime because I pulled the trigger. But I have to tell you that I'm not the only guilty party. I was forced to kill Claudus."

Lion-O's heart twisted and Tygra growled. Neither guard moved, merely eying him. "If you say his name again…"

Cameleo shut the tiny gap in his eyelids. "I apologize."

Lion-O put a paw on Tygra's shoulder. He too hated to hear Claudus' name spoken by his murderer, but he wanted to hear this. His mindless wrath was spent if his anger was not. He nodded at the lizard and he heaved a sigh.

"I lived in Mutan, a lizard community city way out west, as the officers might have told you. My family lives out of the country; I travel to Thundera for work and see my wife and children about once every two months. A doctor gets paid more here than in the Plundarr Republic, and I send much of my money home to her." Lion-O shook his head faintly; the city was a ways off. And the thought of a family hadn't really occurred to him. "It was about two months ago that I was heading to my office in the morning and I was held up."

"'Held up?' At gunpoint?" Lion-O asked. Cameleo nodded.

"I was blindfolded and forced into a car. If there was anyone on the street, they didn't notice anything amiss. I…I think I fainted, or I was hit. The next thing I knew, I was sitting in a chair with my paws cuffed together with the chain stuck through part of the backing. I don't think I need to tell you that I could hardly believe what was happening."

Lion-O listened for a lie, for something to indicate this weird story wasn't true. But Cameleo shook all over and Lion-O couldn't quite convince himself the lizard was lying.

"I was then told that if I failed to comply with any and all orders I was given, I would be killed. They knew my address, my place of work…they even hinted they knew I had a family. That was what frightened me. It was then that the people – I think there were three – told me my objective."

Lion-O just sat there for a minute. It sounded like the stuff of a 'Law and Order' television rerun. But art could imitate life, couldn't it? Could this be true?

Did he even want it to be? Could he hate this person if he had been forced into this? Could he _not _hate him? Lion-O's head was spinning, and he put his fingers to his brow, nursing the bridge of his nose.

"Do you need a minute, Mr. Rey?" the black cat asked. He shook his head.

"No, it's fine. Keep going."

"I was given a ticket and told to board a flight in the next twenty-four hours to Pantherle, and that when I arrived I'd be given a gun. I…maybe they targeted me because I used to shoot in the military in the Plundarr Republic. I don't know. Anyway, they said that once I received it, I had to wait outside the main building of Thunder Enterprises and wait for a large lion to come out. I had to shoot him dead and not miss. And that was it. If I could escape I could go home and forget about it. They'd kill me if I failed. So I got on the flight right afterward. I told no one where I was going.

"I got off the flight, no luggage. The second I stepped outside the airport, someone pushed a box into my arms and I went to hide in an alley to open it. I…I've never seen a gun like that. It was so small, but the barrel was shaped so strangely…"

Cameleo looked down at his cuffs. "Thunder Enterprises wasn't too far. I took a bus from the airport, arrived at a nearby stop, and asked directions the rest of the way."

He paused and his claws clacked on the table, shaking hard. "I…I saw him. He walked right past me at first; I couldn't do it. He was just a normal person, he'd never done anything to me or my family. But it came down to my life or his…"

The pupils quivered. "I know it's all insane! I know it! But you have to believe me! I was a coward, and I'm not asking you to forgive me. I just want you to understand that I will never forgive _myself_."

Lion-O had once heard that lizards couldn't cry, that all the liquid they formed in their eyes was only for wetting the eyeball. He knew it was a lie now; the large eyeballs swelled shut and leaked. There was quiet for a second.

He finally managed to say, "But what about your family? You turned yourself in, do they even know what happened to you…?"

"No. After I shot your father I called my wife, telling her to hide and lay low with our eggs. She didn't understand, she was confused. I couldn't tell her much, but she trusted me…"

Cameleo's shoulders buckled. "It's all so mad! I don't understand any of this! I don't know why Claudus had to die, I don't know who wanted him dead! I don't know why it had to be me to kill him! I don't even know if my family is all right! I just knew that if whoever they are were focused on me, and no one else knew anything, perhaps she'll be safe." He slumped to the table. "I…I just couldn't leave and live. My children can't have a murderer for a father, and my wife can't have a coward for a husband. I had to face my crime. And I didn't want you to have to live without knowing at least what the killer looked like."

Lion-O's head hurt. It was all so crazy, and Cameleo had been foolish to turn himself in. But he struck Lion-O as a little dim, thoroughly uncalculating. He didn't have a deceitful bone in his reptilian body. He had been forced and tricked if this was to be believed.

And looking at those weeping eyes and weighing this, Lion-O found himself starting to believe it. Insane as it all was.

"You've _got _to be kidding," Lurus said, and Lion-O remembered the others in the room. Tygra's face hadn't changed in the past ten minutes. The slim cat leaned on his paws, elbows on the table. "We're supposed to believe you didn't have the brains to keep quiet? Anyone would have just shut up and gone home."

"I couldn't." Cameleo banged his cuffs on the table. "It would have been smarter to go home, to never come back to Thundera. But I would never forget my shame. Honor is worth more to me than freedom, if the truth is told."

Lion-O stared. For all he'd taken from them, he had lost more himself. "You don't even know if your family is okay? They don't know you've been arrested?"

The blunt, scaly face shook. "Those people might be anywhere. They might have already gotten my family. There's no knowing. I could only send them away and put all the attention on me. It was stupid, all of it. But…but it was the right thing to do. The only honorable thing I could do. Lizards aren't the same as cats, we have a different belief about guilt and honesty."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tygra asked, speaking for the first time.

Lion-O grabbed his arm and his eyes narrowed. "Lizards have culturally placed more importance on honor and truthfulness. It's more important to be honest than safe with them. It wasn't a slur, just a statement."

Tygra gave his brother a long look and Lion-O felt the gaze of everyone in the room on him. He just looked back at Cameleo, feeling oddly in control of the situation. "What about the weapon? And can you tell us anything about these people that abducted you? Maybe when they did it?"

Mack seemed ready to intervene but against Chameleo waved a paw. The frustration on Mack's face made Lion-O almost sympathetic. "I fled into the crowd and dropped the gun. It should have been found, I thought. Perhaps someone picked it up. And I used my tongue to test the air a couple times when I was tied up. They were furred…they smelled almost canine, but not exactly. And one of them kept laughing."

Lion-O glanced at the wolf. "He gave us enough information to lead us to believe they may be jackals of some kind," he said, lifting his chin. "We've got a few groups we're looking for that are known to contain jackals, one of which we've never recovered a weapon from. Cameleo's also been monitored by polygraph tests, and they don't detect any lies. But we've found little other evidence to convince us his story happened, and the polygraph's not foolproof. It was on a Monday morning, wasn't it? The abduction?"

"Yes. Around the fourth, I think."

"Well, there were no witnesses. And he can't identify his kidnappers, so that's a problem."

The fourth. Lion-O considered that important for some reason. It took a moment for him to realize why; he and Cheetara had kissed on the third. That had been the day after they'd gotten together.

_"Should the unthinkable happen, and something renders Claudus incapable of running Thunder Enterprises, what would you do? After all, stranger things have happened. I've seen such tragedies over the course of my life."_

Lion-O remembered the words so clearly it was like they were being crooned in his ear. His tongue dried out and his paws went numb.

_"What I mean to say is simply that if something did occur and you had to assume control of Thunder Enterprises very quickly, I would hope that you would not hesitate to look to more experienced figures for help and business." _

"Mr. Rey?"

_I turned down the deal. He…it was him…he was warning me…trying to force my paw…_

"Mr. Rey? Do you need a moment?"

Tygra shook his shoulder and Lion-O sucked in a breath. Everyone was looking at him and Lion-O had to put his paws under the table on his knees. His fingers were cold and almost like clay. "I…no…it's nothing. What would it mean if he really was threatened into this?"

Lurus and Mack looked at each other with mild dislike. "Well, he'd still have to serve time. Capital punishment would likely not be an option in this kind of situation. But his sentence would be reduced to, say…fifty years under Pantherle's laws."

Lion-O looked at Cameleo. _If it really was _him_, then I'm at fault too. But if there's no evidence…_

"We can pursue the death penalty if you'd like. He's made a confession so his sentence _should _be lighter, but considering how heinous the crime and how lunatic the reasoning is…" the lawyer trailed off, scowling at the lizard. Lion-O wondered if he would throw up.

"I'm not asking to walk free. I'm not even sure I'm asking to live. But I had to tell the truth-"

"Shut up," Tygra snapped. "People like you make me sick. I would go after the death penalty. He certainly deserves it. Who knows what other crimes he's committed?"

He was angry, and Lion-O understood that. It simmered like red mist around his brother. And if the Cleras hadn't cooled his own rage, he might have been in the same boat. But if Cameleo was telling the truth and he was really just a marionette, then it wouldn't really be justice. It wouldn't really be over.

Lion-O looked at the lizard for a long, long time. Cameleo shut his eyes, defeated, bowing his head, awaiting judgment.

And the guilt on his face made Lion-O realize that Cameleo knew he deserved death, and accepted that.

"So…if we don't pursue the case into court, he'd be sentenced to life in prison?" Lion-O asked. He could smell the anger on Tygra. Lurus shrugged.

"Most likely. But I could make a good case for capital punishment. We've got a shot, even with the confession."

Dad's dead body swam before his eyes. The story about being abducted and forced to fly to Pantherle _was _a wild one, but the polygraph had detected no lie and even more, Lion-O had _seen _no lies in his eyes. Only regret and terror and anguish. And pain.

Lion-O sighed and shut his eyes. "No."

There was a drawn out pause and Lion-O wondered if anyone had heard him. "I don't want him to die. I believe his story. He can stay in prison and I'll be satisfied. I don't want to go to court if I can help it. I'm tired, and…if his story is true, he's not the source of what happened."

The silence was cold like a bed linen, wrapping all around them. Cameleo was still looking down when Lion-O opened his eyes, but his pupils were stunned and he was staring at his claws like they'd suddenly turned into dancing flies. "The story is crazy, but I don't think he's lying. Why would he make up such an insane story as his defense? The only way he'd try it is if he believes it himself, right?"

"…Mr. Rey. I warn you, if you drop these charges, it will be _very _hard for you to pursue this again if you change your mind," Lurus said quietly.

"Don't worry. I'm not changing my mind."

"I'm interested in pursuing it," Tygra said immediately, and Lion-O turned away. Lurus explained in undertone the court requirements they could go through, but that without Lion-O's support, it would be incredibly difficult to pursue the death penalty. Lion-O, after all, was the blood heir to Claudus. Legally it was all possible, but it would look strange, raise questions…

Lion-O just watched Cameleo. The lizard didn't seem able to meet his gaze, trembling all over. "I don't know if I can forgive you," Lion-O said softly. "But…I do believe someone else is really responsible for this. And I'm sorry that you can't see your family."

Cameleo lifted his chin and looked at him. He seemed near tears. "Do you know that's the first time a cat has ever said, 'I'm sorry' to me? In my entire life, after years…and _I'm_ the sorry one. I took your father from you. He must have been a good man to raise someone like you."

Dad's discomfort with other species and racism stabbed into him. Mom putting a chocolate between his lips and offering candy to the lizard woman cooled the place. Lion-O's eyes were swimming with tears and he had to look away. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. Tygra, if you've got any questions, ask away. I'm going to wait outside if that's all right."

One of the guards – the wolf – stood outside with him, leaning on the wall beside Lion-O. After a minute he pulled a something the size of a lighter out of his pocket and held it out. Lion-O looked down at it and realized they were little candies. "Trying to give up smoking. They're not nicotine, but they're good for a habit. That medicine they sell to get you off the crap is expensive." Lion-O accepted one and thanked him, holding his head. They smelled minty, all little white round shapes. Tic-Tacs, he realized.

"Thanks. Good luck, by the way. How long have you been trying?"

"Eh…three months. Down to a cigarette every two days. Gettin' there."

He popped a candy into his mouth and Lion-O followed suit, letting the pleasant sting of the mint distract him.

"That was pretty big of you," the wolf said at last. "I mean, we've had people forgive criminals before. But not cats generally. Wolves forgive wolves, dogs forgive dogs, lizards forgive lizards…but cats tend to hold on to their anger."

Lion-O just shrugged. "Do you believe him?"

"It doesn't really matter, Mr. Rey. I will say this though; canines have a good sense about when people are lying. Something about their smell. And I didn't smell a lie." The wolf was shaggy and tall, with peppery black and gray fur. His long tail thumped against the wall. "Not that you heard that from me. I like you."

Lion-O nodded and gazed up at the ceiling. "Thanks…?"

"Ted." He popped another candy in his mouth(3). And that was the end of that.

* * *

><p>Cats didn't have the sense of smell of dogs, but Lion-O didn't need a hypersensitive nose to realize that Tygra, upon leaving the prison, was angry. He didn't dare say a word when Tygra got in the driver's seat and drove jerkily, faster than he usually did. He just stared through the windshield.<p>

_So Mumm-Ra did it? At least, I think so. And he as good as warned me, sort of._

_But what proof do I have? And what good will it do?_

This was the problem. The comment Mumm-Ra had made could so easily be interpreted peacefully, and Lion-O had no proof he'd even made it. And there was the chance he was wrong.

Maybe he was wrong in not pursuing the highest punishment in the land too. But Lion-O just felt sick and tired, and wanted to go home.

So when they pulled into the parking garage of Thunder Enterprises, Lion-O didn't get out as quickly as his brother. He slid out of the seat and shut the door carefully behind him. "What time is it?"

Tygra didn't answer. Lion-O watched the tendons in his arms flex and knew that the coming conversation was going to be an unpleasant one.

No employee approached as they entered the building and entered the elevator. A couple of times Lion-O tried to say something but just couldn't make his mouth work. The chime of the elevator drew them out, and the floor for their offices was nearly dead. The click of Pumyra's claws on the computer and the papery rasp of Bengali's textbook pages being turned were the only disturbances.

"Mr. Rey…how was it? What did the culprit want?" Pumyra called. Lion-O glanced up at Tygra and flinched under his jacket; his face was white and his eyes were brightly tawny as if there were matches lit behind his irises. And his mouth looked like it had been cut with a knife out of stone.

"I know you must be angry," Lion-O said abashedly when Tygra shut the office door behind them. Neither of them answered Pumyra's question. "But I do have a reason for believing him. You see, back in Tretierra-"

A white fist hit him in the jaw and Lion-O's teeth were knocked together, jaw jarring in pain. He flew back and hit the wall, and only managed to duck another punch from his brother. Tygra's fur was on end and his eyes were flashing, livid. Lion-O – in fear that was rapidly turning to fury – kicked his brother's calf and ducked away when he retaliated.

"Mr. Rey! What are you doing?" Pumyra shrieked, knocking her chair over as the two began to fight. She looked shocked, and managed to say, "There are employees in the building, you can't just-!"

"You weak moron! You twisted freak! What reason could there be? What reason is there for Dad's killer living a life when Dad didn't get to?" Tygra screamed. "You didn't even _try _for justice!"

Lion-O ducked again and crossed his arms in front of him, ramming his brother to try to stop him. "_Look!_ I just remembered something Mumm-Ra said! He…he made a comment about how I was really young and if something ever happened to Dad, it'd be hard for me to run the company!"

Tygra paused. His whole body was tense, and his biceps jerked once as he remained still. "What?"

"He said that he hoped I'd turn to more experienced people. Like himself. I think…maybe Mumm-Ra Ammit was behind the group that made Cameleo kill Dad. I don't have any evidence other than that, but…I wouldn't put it past him from what he acted like." Lion-O was panting for breath, staring at his brother, whose expression went from blank and considering to ravenously hateful in less than a second.

"_Moron! Idiot!_" Tygra cursed at him, bringing up a knee to kick him in the stomach. Lion-O gasped at the impact. "No evidence? Well, that does a fat lot of good! And you heard him say this and you never warned Dad? You told _no one_? This is exactly why you aren't fit to run things! You're such a piece of-"

The curse was drowned out by Tygra's roar; Lion-O – by instinct– had clawed his arm. His fingertips were wet and his face was throbbing, and Lion-O felt like he'd been fixed in a spotlight, frozen in a performance without a costume. Red stripes joined the black ones. Hatred smoldered in Tygra's eyes, and the claws were bared by both.

"Mr. Rey! _Tygra! Lion-O! _This is unprofessional in the _highest _degree! What is _wrong _with you?" Pumyra might as well have sat at her desk typing for all the difference she made yelling at them.

Lion-O and Tygra hit the ground, wrestling, and Lion-O felt nine again, back when he was dumb enough to swing back at his brother and Tygra would demolish him. He had training, he was bigger and smarter and stronger, and Lion-O always ended up on the bottom when they fought, and he distinctly remembered one instance where Tygra had crushed him into the ground – had Lion-O broken something of his? Was that why they fought? – and it had been really hard to breathe. It felt like that now, because his nose was bloody and for every punch he landed it felt like two were coming in and his head was hitting the carpet and his chest hurt so bad-

The sensation of Tygra being pulled away let in air with that muscled weight off him. Lion-O sat up but couldn't move forward; Pumyra had him by the shoulders and dragged him to his feet with a rather surprising strength. But she released him in shock.

"_Bengali!"_

The white tiger had lugged Tygra off of him and hurled him aside with a strength that was quite admirable for such a young boy. But the thing that drew his attention was that peaceable, gentle Bengali – the cub that had needed help on homework, chatted about Superman and eaten pizza with him – was snarling at Tygra. His face was drawn and lined as a predator's, teeth bared and ears tight to his skull. He spat and hissed, and Lion-O absently wiped at his throbbing nose; the iron tang of blood dripped into his throat and rubbed across his fur.

Tygra too looked furious, and his growl was lower. But he seemed wary, as Bengali's eyes were pale and bright and flaming. The tautness of the air was painful and felt as if it could be clawed apart by either tiger in an all out brawl.

And then Pumyra was between their tight chests and pushed at them. "_Calm down, now!_" Both blinked and Bengali's face quieted, eyes blinked and pupils shrinking back to normal.

"Sorry Sis. But I couldn't just watch." Pumyra fixed her eyes on his and breathed heavily out of her nose.

"Mr. Rey…both of you…I would like to request that you not beat the tar out of each other while on company property. It would be bad enough if you did it at home, but here? Please, some decorum would really be appreciated." She was irritated and Lion-O understood why, even though putting something cold on his face was his primary concern right now. "And I don't know what could have brought you to initiate a fight," she began, looking at Tygra.

"The lizard is going to live. We know he murdered Dad but Lion-O won't pursue capital punishment. He'll live to be an old man because Lion-O believes his ridiculous story about being kidnapped. According to Pantherle law, the death penalty has to be desired by more than one member of the victim's family. Our lawyer had brought documentation." Tygra's arms crossed.

Pumyra looked stunned and shifted her gaze to Lion-O. "…Please tell me he's lying."

Lion-O shook his head. "I'd word it differently, but…it's true."

Her shoulders slumped. "What were you thinking? Look, I swore I'd remain neutral, but I thought you'd try to get justice for your father. If either one of you were dead because of a lizard murdering you…he'd tear the culprit apart with his own claws," Pumyra said, accusing. Tygra tilted his head towards her to indicate another that held his view.

"He'll stay in prison," Lion-O said quietly. "And if I felt like he was the one that was solely responsible, I'd want him dead. And I can't forgive him. But I still think Mumm-Ra might-"

"'Might' is the problem! I know who had the gun and who fired it, messed up motivations or whatever! I know who killed Dad," Tygra said. "Why you have a problem with justice is what I don't know."

Lion-O saw Bengali scrutinizing Tygra. Then he scowled, and Tygra deigned him worthy of a scowl in turn.

"You have mirror eyes too. Just like the Reys did."

Tygra gave him a look. "…What in the world are you _talking _about?"

Bengali shook his head. "Nothing you'd care about. But," he added, drawing himself up to his full height, "don't you ever hit Lion-O again. Ever."

The gall of this cub ordering him around made Tygra smile vaguely. "And you are going to do something to me if I do? Did you miss the part where Lion-O fought too?"

"Only to stop you. I don't like fighting. But I'd…I'd fight you if you hit him like that again." Tygra jerked back when Bengali's eyes flashed. "Nobody should get hurt like that, let alone by family. It's wrong. It's _evil_."

And again, Bengali seemed to see somebody else in Tygra's place, and his fur was stiff with anger. "So don't do it."

Tygra's teeth were white as he spat back, "No kid is going to tell me what to do."

Pumyra dragged Bengali back and retorted, "That may be, but nobody threatens Bengali. This is ridiculous. You and Lion-O may be brothers, but that doesn't mean you can fight like children." This was directed toward Lion-O as well, and she added, "What you do is your business. But personally, I'm more on Tygra's side here. The lizard confessed, but that doesn't mean he should be off the hook in my book."

"He's not. He's going to spend the rest of his life in jail, away from his family. Look, if he didn't feel terrible about what he did," Lion-O said hastily when she narrowed her eyes at him, "I'd have no problem with capital punishment. But he knew he did wrong. You didn't see him, he was practically sick when he told us about it. He was in danger, and he was scared for his family-"

"He's a _lizard_, Lion-O! Name one species better than lizards at lying," Tygra said. Lion-O sat up and stood, Bengali beside him.

"That's so bigoted. If it were a cat you'd want to hear him out, wouldn't you?" Lion-O accused. Tygra's face went scarlet under his fur. "I know you would! You'd feel the same way I do! But you've always been 'cats first, only cats!' haven't you?"

"You really are a lizard-lover, aren't you?" Tygra shot back. "'Oh, the poor lizards; they murder people and then they feel bad.' That makes the bad things they do better?"

"But if he were a cat you'd be willing to listen to his story!" Lion-O resisted the urge to stomp his foot. "It's not like he's off the hook! He's going to be locked up for the rest of his life, his wife and kids will never have him home and he did the only thing anyone could! It was some strange cat or him, and maybe his wife! I'm not saying it was right, I'm just saying that I can see his side!"

"Well I can't!"

"_Well that's a big surprise, isn't it?_"

Lion-O had started yelling, and now he didn't think he could stop. "_You've never cared about lizards or dogs or anyone that wasn't a cat! I'm sick of this! I know he did wrong, but he didn't think he had a choice! I'm not even saying I'm right here! I'm just saying that if he dies for what he did, it's not going to be because of me! If he were evil, okay! But not when it's such a big mess!_"

He stopped to breathe. His fur was sticking up under his clothes, and he wasn't finished. "And you know what?" he asked, a decibel lower, "I know Dad would probably have gone after him. I _know _that. But I can't do it. Not if he's not the source of what happened. I'm going to find out if Mumm-Ra did it, and if he did…I don't know. I'll figure something out. But I'm not going after this lizard just because you're racist and think everyone other than cats are a grade lower in worth! I'm tired of kowtowing to you and Dad about lizards being worthless! I'm not doing it anymore! _They're worth just as much as we are, and it's about time you acknowledged it!_"

Bengali poked his arm. "What?" he asked, a little sharper than he meant to. Bengali pointed at the office door and the glass panes in the wall and door. Lion-O looked, as did Tygra and Pumyra. No less than ten people were standing out there, staring in. Lion-O's face reddened and he turned away. Pumyra seemed to spring to life and headed out, shepherding them all away with scolding and irritable murmurs.

Tygra took a step toward Lion-O but Bengali stepped between them. Lion-O was confused by it, Bengali facing down Tygra with his back to Lion-O's. "Don't hit. I hate it when people hit."

"I wasn't going to." Tygra stepped around the cub and leaned in, grabbing Lion-O's shoulder. "Fine. You get your way, just like always. Dad is dead and the one who pulled the trigger lives. You're a coward. You snivel for help and then claw at the one who helps you. That's worse than a racist in my book."

When he stepped away Bengali gave him another filthy look. "Keep it up, kid. Remember that your sister works here-"

"You can't fire her. I won't allow it," Lion-O said quietly. That seemed to infuriate Tygra even more. "Call me whatever you want, but I'm not backing down anymore. Let's just go home. We're not going to get anything done today."

And to his surprise Tygra nodded and headed out. Lion-O paused to thank Bengali, who just shook his head. "I don't like bullies," he said softly. "_Bullies_ are cowards. And he knows it too. I could see it."

Lion-O had no response to that other than to follow Tygra down to the parking lot, pausing. Lion-O's license got less use than his library card. He'd just been a mediocre driver and Dad had never seen fit to try to help him improve. So he went with Tygra if he wasn't taking a bus.

He turned around. "I'll take the bus home."

Tygra took out his keys. "Why is that? Don't want to see how to drive because you're so bad at it?"

"Thanks for the ride here." It nearly killed him to say it. "But I'm going my own way. You'll only beat me by a few minutes."

They'd reached an impasse at their cores, and there was no shifting. Lion-O couldn't believe he'd finally called out his brother's bigotry; it had existed for years and years, but for the first time, Lion-O had confronted him about it.

Upon entering the apartment, Lion-O didn't see Tygra's jacket but he heard his brother in the other room, banging around and looking for something. Snarf was cowering on the couch. Lion-O had barely shrugged off his coat before his brother came in. "Where are the suitcases?"

Lion-O blinked in surprise. "…Dad's closet. We stored them there, remember? Why?"

"Because I'm moving out." Tygra's matter-of-fact tone made Snarf jump, looking from one cat to the other. "All we do is fight and argue, and I'm tired of it. And…I honestly don't trust myself around you. The less I have to deal with you, the better. I can't think straight right now. I'm too angry. I'll do something I'd regret."

Lion-O followed him to Dad's room. Dad's smell had faded from it, and everything was exactly as it had been when he died; bed neatly made and clothes all folded and hanging up, walls dark and comfortable. Tygra took the cases and carried them back toward his room and Lion-O looked inside, realizing that he hadn't seen Tygra's room in a full year.

It was the same as always. Certificates of achievement framed around the room, medals and trophies from sports and various academia. Pictures of Mom and Dad were on his black dresser, his bed was neatly made – almost obsessively neat – and shelves of books and magazines rimmed the room. They were all nonfiction, all related to business and history and classes. Lion-O watched him take down his clothes and begin folding them.

"Are you serious? You're leaving?"

"Well, if _you'd _rather leave I won't stop you. But considering how messy you are it would take longer to track down your things and pack them up."

Lion-O picked up a shirt and bemusedly started to fold it. "This is stupid. We could just agree not to talk to each other-"

Tygra snatched the shirt and unfolded it. "You're doing it wrong. It'll wrinkle that way."

He refolded it and put it away. Lion-O just watched. "Besides," Tygra said flatly, "no matter what we try, we never agree. Maybe absence will make the heart grow fonder. Maybe we'll deal better if we only see each other at work."

He closed the case of clothes after getting his socks and boxers together and putting them neatly in the side pocket. Lion-O just stood there a moment. "But…where will you go?"

"A hotel until I can find an apartment. I know of a few; I've been considering this for a while." Realizing how that had to sound, Tygra glanced at him. "It's not all you. Mostly you, but not all. This house…there's too much Dad in it. I can't go into a room without seeing something of his and remembering what it was like before…and I'm _tired _of it."

Lion-O held Snarf in his arms and felt like a little kid watching his Dad explain why he was walking out. "I know we don't get along. But I don't want you to leave."

Tygra looked down at him. He was always an inch taller, always. "You think I'm a bigot. And now you're going to take it back to try to get me to stay? Cripes, you hypocritical little-"

"No." Lion-O set Snarf down on Tygra's bed. "I'm not taking it back. You _are_ bigoted. More so than Dad was," he said softly. Tygra stiffened and his eyes glinted. "But that doesn't mean I love you guys any less."

Tygra just nudged him out of the room and shut the door behind him, locking it. Then there was an indignant scratching at the bottom of the door, and Snarf was allowed out before the door shut again. Lion-O stood there for a minute, listening to him move things and put them into his packs.

And then he went to sitting room to get on his computer computer – it had been Dad's and now it was his – and checked his work e-mail. It was becoming habitual by now, and…and there was really nothing to do about Tygra. What was he supposed to do, try to force him to stay?

Panthro had sent him an e-mail. He read through it and thought for a while. He didn't write a response, merely closing the laptop and setting it on the table.

"_Hey kid. How is it going? I met that girlfriend of yours at Berbio's and she gave me your personal e-mail. She's pretty and witty; you did good. Just wanted to see how you were doing. Class has been boring without you. If you need anything, just holler._

"_Panthro." _

Lion-O considered his idea for a minute more before getting up and pulling his jacket back on. At first he thought about telling Tygra, but then he decided against it. He didn't have to ask Tygra's permission for anything. This was _his _decision.

"I'm going to the research lab. I'll be back in about half an hour," he called through Tygra's door. "Don't leave until I get back, I'll help you take your cases out." He allowed Snarf to climb to his shoulder and then left.

When he returned Tygra was gone. Lion-O gazed at the emptiness of his room and took a shower and got into his pajamas for the evening.

And feeling more hurt than angry, and more tired than anything, Lion-O turned on the television and, for the first time in five years, dared to put on old Transformers episodes and watched them in the sitting room.

_What happened to Dad wouldn't have happened if I'd just caved, _he thought dully. _I could've stopped this._

How was he to have known? Lion-O sat in the quiet for a moment before pulling a blanket off the back of the couch and lying down, Snarf curling up on the couch in front of him. And he shut his eyes, hoping that the sounds of another world – one with robots and Allsparks and technology – would drown out the real world for just a little while.

* * *

><p>Mumm-Ra leaned back in his chair. "I see. That's potentially problematic."<p>

Slithe nodded and flicked a bit of dust off Mumm-Ra's desk. It was black and polished as oil, but he could still see the specks. His pupils were big in the dark – Mumm-Ra disliked bright light – and the red curtains were drawn. The dim lamp in the corner gave enough light for Slithe to see the little golden statues on Mumm-Ra's desk. A vulture, a cow, Ammit herself devouring a writhing figure…several different animals. The scrape of Mumm-Ra's red robe over the carpet drew his attention as the old man got up.

He'd redone his bandages lately, so few of them dangled. Slithe was personally of the opinion that Mumm-Ra had been badly burnt years ago and just didn't like the scars that were left. But even he wasn't exactly sure about the strange garments and coverings. "I don't know how the puma managed to get any Thundrillium shipments. We were supposed to control all sources of it."

"Thunder Enterprises was too large to turn down without rousing suspicion." Mumm-Ra crossed the room to stand by his shelf. Between two bookends shaped like golden jackals, he had a large black volume. He slid this out from its spot of reverence and began looking through it. "I've got a backup plan, though. Lion-O might find a use for Thundrillium, and I can't have that. Thunder Enterprises will have to be suffering before I can provide its 'rescue.'"

"And if it turns out there is something to Thundrillium, it'll be a huge boost for them."

Mumm-Ra grinned. "We already know there is _something_ to it. I just need to alter it from its pure form to get the effect I want."

Slithe leaned back in his seat. "What if it really can provide energy the way it is? Why not utilize it?"

Mumm-Ra glanced at him. "And let cats reap a benefit from our labors? No…money is not my primary concern. Power is worth so much more."

"Some would say they're one in the same," Slithe observed wryly. "But no, not you…you have to 'alter its structure.'"

It didn't do to mock Mumm-Ra. But he dared to quote him, crooking his fingers around the air.

"I have bigger aspirations than you can imagine." Mumm-Ra put down the book on his desk. "But for them I need time and stealth. That's why I'm going to offer Thunder Enterprises one of my experts in energy and technology to help them along their way."

Slithe sat erect in his chair, leaning in. "What?"

Mumm-Ra tugged a piece of paper out of his right-paw drawer. He tossed it to Slithe, who caught it by the tips of his claws. Skimming it, he frowned. "'You are cordially invited to Thunder Enterprises' grand event…a welcoming event for the new CEO…traditional and open to all interested attendees…friendly evening between competitors and associates alike.'" He narrowed his wet eyes and asked, "Even you are invited?"

"Indeed. I received it three weeks ago. I don't think it will be as pleasant as my own gala. But it will be the perfect time to offer my condolences and offer some help to our young lion friend…"

He smacked the volume. "Get Vultaire on the phone. He's going to a party in a month's time, and I'm going to need him to be on his best behavior." His teeth gleamed in a bone dry smile. "Lion-O wants to play with Thundrillium…I'll show him not to meddle in the big boys' affairs."

* * *

><p>Panthro had only been in his house for ten minutes when the doorbell rang.<p>

This was not his preferred way the afternoon went. Usually he liked to get into a looser shirt and some grungy pants and read a little before tinkering with some engines and machines. Then he'd wash up, make something for dinner – it included meat ninety-three percent of the time – and relax while grading assignments. And then a little television, generally documentaries and educational shows. And maybe Jeopardy. He went to bed early and got up early as well.

It hadn't been a good week so far, and he wanted to unwind that evening. The new students didn't seem to have much interest in his class, so he didn't have much interest in them.

He'd never been one for opulence, but he was a big guy and needed a fairly tall house to be comfortable in it. He wasn't wealthy but rather well off after all his years working and inventing, and he liked his home; it was solid brick and the inside had cool colors and dark curtains, giving him privacy. Panthro was a little disorganized, but his madness had method. He'd never once lost a tool or any such item. It was his fortress of solitude and masculinity, and he liked it there.

He'd barely changed into his junk clothes and had to zip up his pants before opening the door. The little serval at the door paused and looked straight up to look Panthro in the eye, head fully two feet higher than his own. He was wearing a crisp uniform, and had a badge on his chest. Panthro frowned; he'd made orders for chemicals in the past and they were always delivered by government officials. The serval's tail slunk low in nervous shock. "Um…you…are you Panthro Fides?"

"Yeah. What do you want?" It had been a nerve wracking day, and he wanted to fiddle with tech. The serval had a metal box under his arm, and his fur slicked down.

"Um, I have a delivery for you. From Pantherle. I'll need you to sign these papers to make sure you understand that while not dangerous, you are handling foreign substances." He held out a clipboard and Panthro looked over the documents, frowning.

"I didn't order any chemicals. I didn't apply for any permits either."

"Ah, well, the one who ordered the shipment sent it to you, listing you as an expert. He had all the permits needed. And your work for us has been exemplary, and your last permit is good for another two years. Besides, you couldn't make a bomb with this anymore than you could make a bomb out of a diamond. It's been inspected by three federal officers and has been given the okay. Perfectly legal and safe."

Panthro finished the document and blinked. "Thundrillium?"

The serval nodded. "Lion-O Rey sends his regards. And a note," he added, tapping the box and Panthro saw a letter taped to it. He signed the document and accepted the box and the serval nodded. "Have a good day sir. Thank you."

"Yeah…thanks," he replied, shutting the door as the serval turned away. He opened the letter as he passed through his compact little kitchen and cozy, dark living room to his garage. It smelled of gasoline and had the tang of metal staining every surface and whiff of air, but it was pleasant. A half-built car rested on cement blocks and he sat beside this and a pile of metal parts before starting to read.

"_Got your e-mail. I miss your class, and I thought you'd get a kick out of this. Let me know if you discover anything neat; we're working on it down here, and I got you permitted to handle Thundrillium by saying you were an independent researcher that had volunteered to study it apart from our groups. Don't make me a liar._

_"Lion-O."_

Panthro stared at the letter and then sat it down. He pulled on a pair of gloves, even though he thought this had to be a joke. He skimmed the warning about the substance within the box – not that there was much of one – before undoing the latch.

A pinkish glow emanated from the box. He blinked rapidly and took out a little piece, mesmerized for a moment. For the first time, Panthro had a piece of Thundrillium in his palm.

"…Well I'll be darned."

* * *

><p>1 – This is a reference to 'My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic' episode, 'A Dog and Pony Show.' I love Rarity; she's hilarious. She makes the distinction between whining and complaining in the episode.<p>

2 – Several references. Thunder – ThunderCat. Dragon – every nerd loves dragons. 1985 – year OS TC aired. Gahoole dot com is a play on Yahoo, derived from the Kathryn Lasky books, 'Guardians of Ga'Hoole.' I own none of these things, not even a dragon. If I did, I'd like it to be teal. Dark teal. And telepathic.

3 – Holler to NoWhere Man X and "Ted" Wolf, creator of the original TC.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Nay, nope, no, nein. I don't have any stocks or ownership legalities. Pity. Well, I don't know; apparently profits weren't so good, otherwise the show would've continued. So maybe it's all for the best.

Thanks for the love, guys. Glad to know this is enjoyable to so many people. Alcoholic references in this chapter, and alcohol consumption by a minor as per the legal standards of the United States. Let it be known that I do not – repeat, DO NOT – condone it. You'll understand when you get there. Don't drink if you're underage, it's not cool and isn't portrayed as if it is here. DON'T DO IT.

Not too much LiChee in this chap, sorry. But remember, all good things to those who wait. Again, might tweak a few things, but I'm trying hard to update more quickly for you guys. Take any errors with grace. Ain't easy balancing work, college and writing a several-hundred page story and maintaining a social life with some sleep on the side, y'know.

In other news, I can't say I think the Chima hate going on is justifiable. I mean it's annoying that the show is obviously based off TC in some ways, but unfortunately the NS…kind of ripped off everybody. So, the fact that they're now being ripped off is…well, I think it's a tad funny. I wish it wasn't so, but come on; I've had friends watch single episodes and say, "Hey, Sith lightning," or, "Wait, that exact choreography happened in Star Wars." I mean, come on. Yeah it's sad that Chima is obviously based off TC. But when TC has done the exact same thing a million times over, I'm not going to castigate a show that'll probably end up being more profitable in the end because of a successful toy line.

Then again, maybe I've just reached the point where I care very little. Hm. That's rather sad. Ah well…onto the AU.

* * *

><p><em>"Oh but don't bowl me over,<em>

_Just wait a minute._

_Well it kinda fell apart,_

_Things get so crazy, crazy._

_I wanna push you around;_

_Well I will. I will._

_I wanna push you down;_

_Well I will. I will._

_I wanna take you for granted._

_I wanna take you for granted…"_

_Push, _Matchbox 20

* * *

><p>"You're kidding me."<p>

Lion-O didn't like the look Palustri was giving him. It was somewhere between pitying and incredulous, and he set down the clipboard. "No, I'm not. You said that two dozen dogs were going to be in attendance, right? Well, we're going to have a table catering more toward their tastes. They prefer red meat and bones with the marrow still in them, so that's going to be an option on the table."

Concolo didn't object to this but a few of the board members stood with Palustri. "But that's so…disgusting. Next I suppose you'll want a platter of cockroaches because three dozen lizards will also be in attendance?"

"Not cockroaches. That'd be off-putting to other guests. But a lot of them like fruit, actually. And they eat meat, but it has to be cut into small pieces and prepared well." He wrote down another note. "This is so weird. I've never helped plan a party before in my life."

Palustri threw up his paws. "We haven't changed the food served since nineteen-thirty-five! It's always some kind of steak and salad and bread rolls on the buffet table! And now we have to make these changes because a few people might not like it?"

Lion-O scratched his nose with the back of his pen. "Yep. I'm not the biggest steak person anyway."

"It is _traditional_ to abide by a certain meal."

Eying him, Lion-O asked, "Are you really going to pitch a fit because I want to modify the menu to appeal to everyone instead of just cats?"

Concolo laughed and Palustri scowled, turning away and striding to the decorating crew. "I think it's a good idea. I like fruit."

Lion-O looked up at the ceiling and wondered at the past few weeks. To host the event they'd rented a building that felt just a little smaller than the built-in campus center at Ome N, one that Pantherle sometimes used as a theatre when Broadway – or rather, off-Broadway – came to town. It was clean and being decorated, tables setting up and the floor swept of bits of paper. Lion-O was sitting on one of the tables that would be used to hold the food, and he looked down his list, checking off things that he had done.

"Approve the menu, check. Make sure the amount prepared will be enough for the people that come, check. Get suit cleaned, check."

Tygra walked past him without a word and Lion-O ignored him. He was just mad because Lion-O had opted for a t-shirt and jeans today because he was helping bring in tables and other furniture for the event tomorrow evening. Tygra was never one to dress informally, even for moving and hauling. He wore a clean button up shirt and black slacks, and that was as dressed-down as he ever got.

Lion-O's ears perked when he heard someone in the doorway yelping. A group of lizards, along with several cats, were trying to get another table surface through the door, but it was stuck. He put the clipboard down and went over, helping them turn it to the point that it was angled to get through.

"Thanks," one lizard panted. He looked like a cobra, black scales and a hood over the back of his neck. "They're heavier than they look."

"Yeah, they're bigger than the plastic ones at picnics." Lion-O didn't see much purpose in having these; they had to be put up properly once inside because they were made of carved wood and looked fancy after they were arranged. But tablecloths would be covering them anyway, so who cared what they looked like? It was all the same pomp that he and Cheetara had found so overwhelming and awkward in Tretierra.

Maybe he was just too simple. Oh, but if Cheetara and the others could come, he would have gone to the party wearing nothing but his Transformers boxers without complaint.

That, however, was not to be.

_"You want to put her in the public eye again? If she's on your arm at the event, _everyone_ will see her and pester her." _Tygra's passing comment at the office had been unwelcome but honest. Lion-O sighed and let the hope of inviting her down for it fade. But it would have been wonderful to see her in her black evening gown, to whisper to each other, laughing at the ridiculousness of the snooty people in the crowd. And Jaga could come, wearing a suit, and trying to persuade Kat to wear one would have been hilarious. Kit would have loved to dress up, and Lion-O smiled a little, imagining her in pink princess gown, twirling around.

He returned to the table and picked up his clipboard. "Okay, so…wait, what's this?"

At the bottom of the page, among the beverages listed, something was featured that he hadn't spotted. It appeared to be some kind of punch, involving pineapple, kiwi, a bunch of other fruits…and some kind of alcohol. "Why are we going to have alcoholic punch? I can't drink. Why would we serve something the CEO can't drink?" He wasn't trying to sound whiny, but it _was_ a little bizarre…

Palustri came up to him, pointed at the clipboard and said, "Tra-di-tion. Does the word mean anything to you? There will be certain expectations, and just because you're too young to drink doesn't mean the attendees will be!"

He smartly marched away after that and Lion-O just rolled his eyes and tried to help bring in more furniture. He didn't worry about pleasing Palustri. Little seemed to.

* * *

><p>"What kind of lonely, weird person designed this thing?"<p>

Kat tossed the Rubik's cube onto his pillow and plopped his feet on either side of it, letting his head fall against the foot of the bed. "And why did Pippi Longstocking sleep with her feet on her pillow?"

"I dunno. You could just look on the computer to find the instructions." Kit wiped off the mouthpiece to her new flute and blew into it, moving her fingers clumsily.

"But I wanna figure it out! For Papa. I just don't know what kind of weirdo actually had enough time to figure out how to build this weird thing," Kat said, rolling onto his side and climbing onto the ladder. "Why are you in my bed, anyway?"

"'Cuz." She followed one of the treasure map lines of the comforter with her eyes. "Hey Kat."

"Yeah?"

"How much do you think a plane ticket costs?"

He sat down beside her. "I don't know. A bunch."

Reaching into her jean pocket, Kit pulled out a few crumpled bills and two coins. "Well I've got eight dollars and twenty-six cents. How much do you have?"

Kat gave her a suspicious look. "Nine-fifty in my treasure chest bank. Why?"

"Hm. That's…more than seventeen dollars. I don't think that'd be enough. It's supposed to be at least a hundred dollars, at _least._ And if you go a long way, it costs even more…we both get paid five dollars a week for helping around the house, so that's ten a week…that'd be eight weeks of saving. Think we could negotiate an advance of our allowance with Jaga?"

Kat stared at her. "Or maybe we can sell lemonade to make money. Or I could play the flute, once I get real good at it," she continued, musing.

"Like he'd let us wander around playing music for money. Why are you wanting to get a plane ticket? If this is because you want to go see Lion-O before everyone else-" he began accusingly.

Wrinkling her nose in irritation, Kit blew a high note in frustration. "Not for me! For Cheetara! I wanna know if we can save up some money to get her a ticket for her birthday! It's in February y'know. What better present would there be than her getting to go see Lion-O early?"

Kat's protests faded. "Oh. Yeah, that'd be a really good present. Maybe we could ask Jaga if he'd pitch in."

"Yeah." Kit put her flute aside and lay on her stomach, chin in her paws as she stared straight ahead. "She misses him real bad, you know?"

"She's kinda sad, but she seems okay," Kat disagreed. He flopped down beside his sister, tail flicking.

"No she's not. I mean, she still does stuff and works, but she's sad. She's got this habit where she keeps looking at the door like he's going to walk in with Snarf. And she can't listen to love songs on the radio. She always turns it over."

Kat didn't see the significance of this. "Maybe she just wants to hear fun music."

"But love songs are her favorite. Now she won't listen to any no matter what." Kit watched her brother's claws fiddle with the cube and then rested her head on her arm. Things were difficult to get accustomed to without Lion-O and Snarf; Lion-O could be pestered into watching fun movies with them and playing games, whereas Cheetara and Jaga were busy more often with their work.

And he supposed that Kit was right. Cheetara did seem different. She tended to sit for long periods of time, reading or working without getting up and moving around. Cheetara always used to move more, have more energy. And she used to smile a lot more too. Now she was simply withdrawn, quiet. Nearly mute, even.

"I don't know, I think Jaga would have thought of that already. And besides, I miss him too. She wouldn't go unless we could all go together," Kat said and Kit had to agree.

"Think he'd mind if we called him?"

"It's noon. He'll probably be at work."

They shared a glance. "I get to talk to him first!"

"No, me! You can dial the number!"

They scrambled off the bed and ran for the phone. Kat poked his head into Jaga's office on the way and said, "Hey, can we call Lion-O? Great, thanks!"

Cheetara was in there with Jaga, arranging his folders, but she dropped them as she said, "Wait, no-"

"Sure. Go right ahead," Jaga called absently. Cheetara crossed her arms and Kat grinned, ducking out of the room. Kit already had the phone in her paw and pressed the last button to dial Lion-O's cell phone.

Her tail twitched and fluffed up. "Hello? Who is this?" she asked. "Oh. Can I talk to Lion-O? Thank you."

She covered the mouthpiece and Kat heard Cheetara come up behind him. "Some lady answered. I think she's his secretary."

Kat looked openly at Cheetara, who didn't flinch or look huffy. She tended not to be a jealous sort. Kit stood in the middle of the hall and danced back and forth idly. Then she perked up and grinned. "Hey Lion-O! We wanted to call and see how you were!"

Neither of them could hear response, so hit a few buttons and said, "Okay, you're on speaker. Whatcha up to?"

"Setting up for some big event I've got to host. How are you guys?"

Cheetara visibly relaxed at the sound of his voice, friendly and somewhat tinny through the phone. "We're fine," she called, stepping a little nearer. "What's this about an event?"

"Apparently Thunder Enterprises hosts a big party for every new CEO and my secretary conveniently mentioned this to me a few weeks ago. I forgot about it."

"You're having a party? How come we're not invited?" Kat protested.

"Because I don't want the press to follow you guys. And besides, it wouldn't be any fun for you. I wouldn't go if I didn't have to. It's gonna be a bunch of people talking about business. Not exactly fun for kittens." Something in the background – possibly a door – shut.

"Who are you talking to?"

Kat perked up. "Hi Tygra! We called Lion-O! How are you doing? We haven't seen you in a long time!"

"Kat? Uh, hi. So you guys called?" Tygra sounded surprised and Kit moved closer to the phone.

"Yep! Sounds like there's going to be a party or something where you are. But Lion-O says there aren't any games, so it wouldn't be any fun for us. And the paparazzi is gonna follow you. Still, we wanna see you guys. When do you think you'll have the time to visit? We're saving to come in the summer…"

"That's nice. Yeah, it's a traditional gathering. We would've invited you guys, but things are…well, they're a little tense right now." Kat didn't know what that meant, but he was more interested when Tygra said, "It's probably going to be a while before we can head up there."

"Well, maybe we can go down there later. We missed you at Christmas," Kit said. Cheetara stood beside the phone now and said, "Hey Lion-O, we got your e-mail! And a Froog pooped on Cheetara the other day. Isn't that right?"

"Yeah, I'm the designated toilet," Cheetara said and Kat grinned.

"Oh, that's-"

"That's too bad. Have you been doing okay other than that?" Kat's grin faded; Lion-O had tried to say something but Tygra had jumped in, interrupting him. Cheetara's face was smooth but he saw her paw tense as if in discomfort.

"Oh, a little bored, but we're all fine. How has the business been?" she asked gently.

"As well as can be expected under Lion-O. It's holding together," Tygra said, voice equal parts serious and teasing. "Business never was your forte, was it little brother?"

Kit looked up at Cheetara and Kat didn't quite understand the look on her face. But Cheetara simply shook her head. "I'm sure Lion-O's doing a wonderful job. He always does his best."

"Thanks, I-"

"Ah, but Lion-O's 'best' isn't always someone else's best." Tygra had lightly interrupted again and Kat saw Cheetara tap her fingers against the table. "It doesn't tend to impress the business heads."

"Well, it always makes me proud of him, knowing he gives it his all. I never have any reason to ask for more than that. Now what were you saying, Lion-O?" Cheetara's voice was soft but firm, not meaning to insult but oddly bold. Kit relaxed and Kat figured he was missing something when everyone was quiet on either end.

"Uh…I was just going to say thanks. I mean, it's still bumpy, but things are manageable." Kat could imagine Lion-O's face going red the way it always did when Cheetara said something mushy and nice to him. "What? Right now? We're talking to-no, I understand, but…okay, fine, one second. Cheetara, Kat, Kit? We've gotta go; apparently there are 'urgent matters to attend to.' I'm sorry we couldn't talk longer. Maybe after this party is over…"

"We understand. We'll talk to you both later," Cheetara said. Even Kat saw the wistful frustration on her face. "We love you guys, stay safe!"

"Yeah, lo-"

The call cut off and Kat crossed his arms and looked at Kit. All of a sudden saving up for a ticket for Cheetara – who was staring at the phone miserably – was sounding like a really good idea.

* * *

><p>Lion-O glared at Pumyra. "You couldn't let me finish saying goodbye?"<p>

"Look, it's not me pitching a fit, it's Palustri. He wants to have your approval on the change in production finalized by two, and you need to let me look over your welcoming speech," she said. "Call them when you get home."

Reluctantly he left his desk phone on the hook, moving to read through the documents. But a chance glimpse of his brother's face made him lift his head. Tygra was looking at him with sharp irritation. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm sorry I tried to come between you and Cheetara is all. She wasn't interested in talking to me, I should have realized," Tygra said.

Lion-O opened the folder. "It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to you; she just didn't like hearing you interrupt me and down me. You do it all the time, maybe she gets sick of it," he said absently, thinking of the warmth in his chest when she'd so quietly cut off Tygra's spite. She hadn't sounded angry but it had been like a knife cutting him off, and Lion-O felt better for it.

"This all looks fine to me," Lion-O said after a few minutes, putting the folder down. "He stuck to what I wrote down." Pumyra nodded and took them, and he returned to the wall where he'd been before the phone call. He felt his brother's eyes following him as he picked up the hammer he'd put down and began tapping away at a nail in the wall.

"What are you doing?"

Lion-O didn't answer immediately, making sure the nail was sturdy before opening his desk drawer and taking out a framed picture. Wilykit's rendition of Snarf looked out of place below the forest landscape piece Claudus had up, but it made him happy to see it. The frame was simple and dark, and it looked sweet. So he got another nail and began pounding on it. "Putting up some of the kittens' Christmas presents. You did already, and I haven't had time until now. The party's set and I want to do something fun for right now."

Tygra looked a little embarrassed but his face darkened when Lion-O came to a desert scape. "I really don't like this one. Do you want to put it in your office? I'll keep the others up," he said, removing it carefully. This left more room for the other ones from the kittens. Lion-O continued to hammer, and when the nails were in, he picked up the framed pictures and hung them gently on the wall.

The painstaking care the kittens had taken in their drawing made him smile, and he took more nails from the box and began to put up more for the other pictures.

"Lion-O, stop moving things around. This is Dad's office," Tygra said. Lion-O lowered his arm in time to keep the hammer out of his grip and continue pounding.

"It's my office now. I'm leaving most of his stuff in the same place, I'm just making it my own too. Kat and Kit worked hard on these pictures, and I like them better than these landscapes anyway."

Tygra bristled. "They're Dad's-!"

"And I'm keeping a lot of them. Just not all. This is _my _office now. I don't want it, but I'm going to make the best of it. And I think he'd like the kittens' pictures up," Lion-O said. "We'll keep most of them in the same place. You can take the desert one. He'd like you to have one in your office."

"But this office has been this way for twenty years," Tygra protested. "I mean, my office wasn't important, but you're changing Dad's office."

"There is no way you're trying to tell me you can put up your Christmas picture presents and I can't put up mine," Lion said flatly. "I don't care if they're not imposing. I like them, the kittens worked hard on them, and I like them."

The truth was that, since his brother had moved out, Lion-O felt a nearly alarming freedom. He didn't have to worry about using the last of the toothpaste or whether his brother wanted to watch television. If he wanted to put on a DVD of favorite episodes, he could. If he wanted to eat sugary cereal for dinner, Tygra wouldn't harp at him. It was like being back at Tretierra only roomier and lonelier.

But Tygra being gone and seeing him less made interacting somewhat tolerable. Lion-O felt like he could breathe, even though home wasn't as homey as he wanted. And this bred a new ability to ignore his brother.

For once Tygra seemed willing to let it go. He sat down in one of the spare seats in the room and asked, "Is your suit ready for tonight?"

"Yes. Yours?"

He nodded. "I think one of the head males of the Rey family is going to attend as a representative. They don't like how cold Tretierra is in the wintertime," he said.

"Gee, what a shame," Lion-O said sarcastically. "We only have to deal with one of them." He put up the picture of the Cleras and himself, and surveyed the walls. The imposing office was suddenly broken up by fun, sprightly crayon images. "I guess we need to be there by seven to greet the early arrivals. I'd rather not have some random stranger comb my fur again, so we probably need to leave by four to get ready and head over."

"Thinking ahead. I like it," Tygra said frankly. Lion-O was a little surprised – perhaps alarmed was the better word – at this, and wondered if the move had really improved things so much. "Will you be attending, Ms. Verus?"

"Yes, it's a company occasion so I'll be there. Bengali's coming as well, since you didn't put a ban for anyone under eighteen. The separation of the tables for minors makes it easier. You said the speech is ready?" Pumyra asked as he sat back down and started looking through his e-mail.

"Yep. No index cards this time." He spotted a short e-mail from Panthro in his inbox and read through it – a thanks for the Thundrillium and an apology that he wouldn't be able to make it to the celebration; he was grading a bunch of assignments due back in a couple days and had to get them done – and felt a little crestfallen. Panthro would not have worried about dealing with paparazzi a bit, and he was quite capable of ignoring them or scaring them off. It would have been nice to see a friendly face. But he did say, "Keep your chin up, and I'll see what I can do with Thundrillium. You'll be fine, kid."

Lion-O logged out of his e-mail and noticed that Tygra had left without a snotty remark and he hadn't even noticed. _Maybe things _are_ getting better since we're apart more_.

He entered another file and began reading through it and analyzing what was going on. He'd made a few adjustments to the celebration, and hoped they would be met well.

* * *

><p>Cheetara was not happy.<p>

The Froog defecating on her had been upsetting. Nothing too terrible but still aggravating.

Then she'd messed up lunch by burning the grilled cheese sandwiches because she hadn't been paying attention. The house still smelled like smoke.

And one of the piglings from a swine rat that had just given birth had died, and another one was looking sick. There was nothing they could do, but she was dreading telling the owner that some of the young had simply been too sick to survive.

But the coup de grace, the straw that broke the catallo's back, was this. The kittens had called Lion-O, he had been talking to them, and then Tygra had downed him right in earshot. And just when she'd managed to get Tygra to stop being spiteful for a second so she could just _talk _to Lion-O – and even Tygra, if he'd only stop acting that way – he'd had to hang up.

So she'd basically heard her boyfriend downed, managed to get the guy doing it to stop, and then she lost the opportunity to talk to her boyfriend that she missed really badly and hadn't audibly spoken to for nearly three weeks.

So no, Cheetara was not happy. It had been a bad day and this evening left her in a miserable mood. She wanted to kick something and get on a plane and go see Lion-O right then. But she tried not to let these feelings be known because she didn't want the kittens or Jaga to worry. After all, there was nothing to be done for it.

The sensation of operating without a paw had only grown stronger, and her chest physically ached when she heard love songs or read books with selfless, sweet protagonists. She felt like she'd taken Lion-O for granted while he was there in a way; Cheetara knew she'd never treated him unkindly, but she hadn't really memorized the way it felt to hold him and be warm in his arms, or how it sounded when he started singing to the radio and she was completely quiet so he wouldn't hear her and stop from embarrassment.

She just missed him. She missed holding his paw, she missed talking to him, and she missed the way he made her laugh and feel like things were brighter than before. Sometimes – and she would never say this to Jaga – Cheetara had daydreams where Lion-O just wandered in from off the street and it had turned out that Claudus was alive, he was still in college, and the dark times had just been a nightmare she'd had while dozing off at the front desk. And then the kittens would run in, demanding time and attention, and Snarf would filch snacks out of the fridge.

Lion-O had burned a bright little hole in her heart, a place for himself. And that place hurt more and more each day. She had absolutely meant it when she said she wanted to continue seeing him. But it was so hard not to _see _him.

Cheetara passed the kittens' room with the laundry basket and caught one bit of conversation through the cracked door. "…Think I found about two dollars in change in the couch, so if we keep saving and ask Jaga for a part, maybe we can save up enough in a month."

"A month is a while. But I guess anything's better than six whole months. But we're still trying to save up for the new clinic, remember. All the extra money is going there," Kat said glumly. Cheetara tilted her head, listening as Kit got up and started pacing.

"Oh, I know…I just wish we could get jobs or something. It'd make this a lot faster. You saw her face when Lion-O had to go. We gotta get her down there."

Cheetara's eyes softened. "I wish plane tickets weren't so expensive. I mean I guess it's fuel cost or something. I mean, what else can be expensive about bad food and being stuck in the air for hours?" Kat muttered. "I remember when we would have thought about…y'know."

"No way," Kit said. "No stealing."

"I know! I was just remembering is all. We used to steal if we had to. We've grown up a lot is all. We kinda owe Jaga and Cheetara and Lion-O." He sighed. "Okay, so we've got a total of fifteen dollars and sixty-five cents after today. It's a start."

It was at this point that Cheetara nudged the door open and cleared her throat. Both kittens – Kat on his bed and Kit mid-step – froze. "I, ah, couldn't help overhearing. Saving up for a plane ticket is pretty ambitious for a couple of kittens."

She set the basket down and sat down on the lower bunk bed. Kat poked his head over the edge of his to look at her. "You've been so down lately. We all wanna see him, but you miss him most of all," he mumbled shyly. Kit plopped down next to her with a pink face, perhaps embarrassed at their plot being found out so early on.

"I know. And it is incredibly sweet of you both to try getting me a ticket to go see him." Cheetara lifted her chin and pecked Kat on the forehead and then Kit, hugging them both when Kat came down the ladder and sat on her other side. "But I don't want you spending money you work hard for on me. Especially when we're all going to see him together soon enough. Because as much as I miss him, I'd miss you guys if I went without you. And Lion-O would miss you too."

Kit swished her tail back and forth. "Yeah, but…!"

"You're so sad. And we're not going to see him for months! C'mon Cheetara, can't you just go by yourself for a little bit to see him? Just so you guys won't miss each other so bad?" Kat said.

Cheetara took out some of the kittens' clean clothes from the basket and began folding them to put them in the dresser. Kit and Kat followed suit, picking around the other's undergarments with disgusted faces. "I'll just have to grin and bear it. I think it'll get easier as time goes on. Besides, you said it yourselves; we've got to save up a certain amount to expand the clinic and keep things growing."

Both kittens leaned on her and hugged her waist. "It's still so dumb that it's gonna take that long is all," Kat said moodily. She smoothed the fur along his ears and sighed, letting Kit run her fingers through her mane. A pair of jeans and two folded shirts rested in her lap.

"I miss him. I do. And I know you both miss him too. It'll be a while, but we'll all be together again soon." Cheetara listened to this as she said it and wished that it made her feel better. It was a slight improvement but she still saw pouts on the kittens' faces.

"Maybe we can call him again tomorrow evening," Kit said.

"Yeah, maybe. That would be nice. So," Cheetara said, suddenly wanting the conversation to end while she could still feign a good mood, "I need a couple of volunteers to fold this laundry while I run another load. Any takers?"

"Only if I don't gotta put Kit's underwear away! They're pink," Kat said loudly.

"And I don't wanna touch Kat's briefs. They got cooties," Kit shot back, grinning.

Cheetara grinned and left the basket to them. And she only let the smile fade when she stepped outside their room and shut the door, and her throat felt tighter than usual.

* * *

><p>For half an hour nobody arrived, and Lion-O got the chance to survey the work put into this place. It was like a theatre with the seats removed and placed around dinner tables in one large corner. The carpet was blue and red and the curtains were golden, and though it didn't match Mumm-Ra's level of opulence, he was proud of what he'd helped do. It was more welcoming than Mumm-Ra's had been. It was happier, warmer, more inviting.<p>

Though some had thought it wild, Lion-O had, upon hearing that some of the guests wished to bring their children, had a smaller table set up just for kids so they wouldn't have to wait through the adult line for things like steak and fancier fare. It was a little silly, but he remembered being dragged to a couple of these at seven years old and not being able to have a simple plate of macaroni and cheese but having to eat rare steak – still bloody in the middle – and scalloped potatoes instead. He didn't want that for these kids.

The platters were filled with fruits and other such foods, and he scanned the room. Some of the caterers hired for the event were talking quietly in the corner, and they looked upset. He frowned and approached, and all of them fell silent when he came close.

They were all wearing suits and their scales were dark save for the bright patterns on their backs and hoods – cobras, most of them. Two cats – looking annoyed – nodded at him. "Mr. Rey. Can we help you?"

"Is everything okay? You all look worried." He felt strange in his suit and slicked mane, official and shiny. The lizards exchanged glances.

"Well…there's a problem. The delivery truck brought golden delicious apples instead of red, and the instructions stated they were to be red. We told the driver there was a mistake, but he didn't listen."

Lion-O looked at their dejected scaled faces and wondered if the driver had been a cat. He furrowed his brow. "Oh. Okay."

"We're very sorry. We'll make do with what we have; if you'd like to report us to our company-"

"Wait, wait. You think I'm upset?" Lion-O would have laughed if they hadn't been so nervous. "You couldn't help that he messed up. And besides, golden are as good as red. Don't worry about it, you're doing fine. Thank you for all the work, it looks really great in here."

He wondered then if he'd sprouted another head because all of the caterers were staring at him. One of their jaws dropped and the forked tongue hung out. Lion-O felt uncomfortable and turned around. "Seriously, don't worry about it. It's fine."

He heard the quiet murmuring and hissing of the cobras as they spoke to each other and tried not to wonder what they were saying.

A little while after that the guests started arriving and Lion-O was pleased to see a feline couple with two little girls come in, the cubs cooing at the sight of the place. It made him wish the kittens were here to get their take. He and Tygra – who had been doing the same thing as him, dealing with last-minute issues up to that point – greeted them, and they seemed nice enough. The parents were CEOs of restaurants franchises found in Thundera and the Plundarr Republic, and were quite taken with Tygra and his dapper, professional appearance and behavior. Lion-O on the other paw was a hit with the kittens. They had spotted the macaroni and he personally ladled out a couple of plates for them. "We thought there was only gonna be grownup food!"

"No way. I have a couple of friends that would get mad at me if I didn't have macaroni at a celebration."

More people arrived, and it was a bit of a rush to greet them all personally. Lion-O and Tygra shook paws and thanks for arriving, and they were all impressed by the surroundings.

"Mr. Rey, it would be best for you to greet the guests in the middle of the room. That way they can mingle and wander instead of milling around the doorway." Lion-O turned his head and Tygra followed suit. The woman speaking was wearing a dark green dress, the front dipping down to her sternum and showing some of the soft, pale fur of her chest. It nipped in at the waist and bared her calves, and her mane was down, thick over her shoulders. She had her necklace on and her lipstick and lashes were strikingly dark.

Lion-O didn't recognize the feminine creature as Pumyra at first. But when he did he said, "You look nice, Pumyra."

But it made him wistful for Cheetara. She would not have looked so cold or irritated, and she easily a thousand times more beautiful than Pumyra. She was warmer by nature, and Lion-O looked beyond the puma and waved. "Hey Bengali. Nice suit."

It was dark blue and he had a black bowtie. This he tugged at uncomfortably as he approached. "Yours too. There are so many people." The tuft on his forehead still stuck up, even though the rest of his mane was slicked back.

Pumyra nodded at Lion-O and then at Tygra, who looked a little more impressed than Lion-O had been. "You clean up well," he said smoothly, lifting her paw for a genteel kiss.

Her dark, smooth lips curved in a smirk. "I was going to say the same thing to you." Bengali rolled his eyes and murmured a quiet, reluctant greeting to Tygra.

There wasn't much time to talk to either of them when they moved to the middle and continued shaking paws and speaking. For half an hour people arrived and praised the decorations and brooked safe, idle small talk. Lion-O was almost happy when Concolo moved to the stage, set with a podium and microphone and cleared his throat gently. "Your attention please."

The talk died down and everyone turned to look at him. "On behalf of both Mr. Lion-O and Tygra Rey, I would like to thank you for coming to this occasion. As a friend of Mr. Claudus Rey, I know he would have appreciated everyone who came tonight."

Lion-O had made his way to the stage and Concolo extended a paw. "The floor is yours, sir."

Being called "sir" by a cat fifty years older than himself was strange. Lion-O shut his eyes and opened them again, breathing out before turning to the podium.

The sea of people before him was every color, furs and feathers and scales mixed together with silks and suits. Earrings and cufflinks winked at him, and Lion-O thought of Cheetara's cheap, pretty jewelry. He'd have given a royal jewel to have her there. The dark stone on his right ring finger shone with what little luster it had left, and Lion-O lifted his chin.

"Hello. Welcome everyone. As board member Concolo said, we are very grateful to have your company this evening. It's been a pleasure greeting you, and I hope you enjoy your time here tonight."

He paused. Somewhere in the back he'd heard the click of a camera, and knew Lynxana had to be somewhere in the crowd. "I know a lot of you are here to find out about the new management, and how it's going to differ from previous administrations. Well, I invite you to ask questions, and if I can answer them, I will. Keep in mind though that some of you are competitors, and I can't tell you every little thing we're working on."

A few people laughed and a benevolent murmur in the crowd soothed him. He wasn't shaking as badly this time, and managed to smile. "Please enjoy the food the caterers have worked to prepare. And thank you everyone that put this together."

He stopped. Not abruptly, but he had to fight not to gasp. For in a shadier corner, leaning on the wall casually, Mumm-Ra Ammit was watching him with calculating eyes.

He wore an utterly black suit this time, apparently opting for more normal garb. It didn't reflect any gleams of light and his head bandages had been concealed by a black top hat. It was am old-fashioned, debonair look, but nothing could disguise his red, bulbous eyes and the gaunt carve of his face.

Lion-O coughed, and continued a little more weakly, "I don't want to bore you up here, though. Let's enjoy this pleasant evening. Feel free to sample the food if you haven't already."

And with that he left the podium. His speech hadn't been much, but his head was too much of a whirl for him to think about its weak ending. Mumm-Ra, here? His heart was pounding fast and his paws were sweating. Why had it surprised him? He was their biggest competitor.

Perhaps this was more frightening simply because this was the night he had to prove himself sophisticated. Lion-O watched the gathering take plates and take neat portions. Again he noticed that the children present – about thirty total – milled around their buffet and was glad he'd gone against the tradition of it being adults only. After all, it had to be hard to be away from kids all day and then have to be away from them in the evening. The room seemed happier for the kids, and again he wished he could have brought Kat and Kit. Kit would have loved to dress up.

"Something happen?" Tygra ended up sitting beside him with a couple of empty seats between them and a couple of cats. Lion-O shook his head and noticed Tygra had refused to partake in the new fare. He ignored this and bemusedly looked at the slivered apple slices glazed with sugar and syrup on crisp pastry. It was fresh and he didn't regret breaking tradition again. "You looked kind of freaked."

Lion-O leaned and muttered, "I just saw Mumm-Ra. He's here."

Tygra glanced at him sharply. "Point him out later. I'd like to see him for myself. I think it's about time I see if the reputation he has is deserved."

Lion-O shrugged and tried to keep his elbows up as he cut off a piece of pastry. A shadow fell over him and a cultured voice said, "Lion-O. May I have a word with you?"

For a second he almost believed Dad had come back, braided his mane and beard intricately and wore a green evening suit. But then he squinted and realized it was one of the Reys. A cousin of Dad's, in fact. "Of course. Please sit down. Sinhal, was it?"

The lion nodded and seated himself beside Lion-O and Tygra had the good grace look away before making a face. Sinhal had come to the funeral but he rarely attended anything else. He'd refused to attend Claudus and Leola's wedding, and had never acknowledged Tygra's adoption one way or the other. He was a handsome, wild looking creature, and as was the preferred style for men in Sava-Na, wore his mane long. Lion-O remembered Kit trying to braid his mane and imagined what she'd do with all twenty-four inches of Sinhal's, and had to put a paw to his mouth to keep from laughing.

"I meant to speak to you after the funeral, but it was a busy time. I have heard you are running the company now." Lion-O nodded and felt very short compared to Sinhal's majestic height. "How are things? Is there any assistance you might need?"

"Not really. I've got the board and Tygra and all the other employees advising me right now. I've got no shortage of talent and know-how," Lion-O said quietly. Tygra's ear tilted at that but he said nothing, engaging another cat at the table in low conversation. "Thank you though."

SInhal waved a paw. "That is good. But I must ask another question, one about a topic Claudus was supposed to discuss with you before...the lizard."

Lion-O stiffened but he said, "Okay. What is it? He didn't have a chance to talk to me about anything new."

"It is of greater importance now that you are the last eligible heir to Thunder Enterprises," Sinhal said, not looking at Tygra. "You are eighteen and will turn nineteen this year. I think it is time you started considering a mate and legitimate heirs."

If Sinhal had got up and started dancing Lion-O's eyes couldn't have bugged out any more than they did. "…Excuse me?"

"Ah, I forget. You Thunderans tend to work your way into conversations instead of getting to the point. Forgive my abruptness, but it is the main reason I have come. You see, we have several lionesses your own age in Sava-Na, and two of them are unmarried. There is also a fifteen-year-old, but your culture would frown on that."

Lion-O blinked. The idea of _marrying _a fifteen-year-old…good grief, that would be a freshman in high school. "Uh…I understand your concern, but I'm not really interested in marrying just yet." It wasn't strictly true, but he couldn't think of a good way to say, "Sorry, I don't shack up with relatives."

Sinhal grunted. "Your father said you wouldn't take well to the idea. Still, I intend on bringing them to visit over the summer, so you should be open to the idea."

"That's not necessary. I'm really not interested, no offense."

Lion-O the irritation in the deep chest when SInhal said, "Why not? You are unmarried and it is your job to sire a cub within marriage as soon as possible. The company can only pass to your blood heir."

"And I'll get to that when I'm ready." There was an edge to his voice. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm not interested." _Loony._

The blue eyes narrowed as Sinhal murmured, "I have heard you are seeing a non-lioness. If this is true, you are doing something foolhardy."

Lion-O wanted to sock him. But he looked beyond Sinhal when one of the caterer lizards gently touched his shoulder and whispered, "Sir, a couple would like to speak to you. They didn't want to interrupt, but they are quite in need of assistance." He looked around and spotted a pair of dogs, one male with red and blond fur and the lady with creamy gold. The lady lowered her head demurely and Lion-O did his best to smile.

"Please sit down." He gestured to the empty seats on Sinhal's other side, and the greater lion watched with irritated eyes as the dogs seated themselves, looking shy in the presence of all the cats. Tygra gave them a polite nod, and Lion-O said, "Sinhal, I'm afraid your kind offer is just not something I can accept. Who I date and marry is my business. If you want to continue this little talk, we can do so later."

Maybe it was rude, but Lion-O wasn't going to listen to this idiot tell him why he couldn't date Cheetara or anyone other than a lioness. And Sinhal, upon realizing his dismissal, got up and pushed the chair back in and stalked away, heavy footsteps making the glasses tremble. Tygra leaned in to whisper, "You really ticked him off."

"Yeah. Big deal," he muttered back. Aloud he said, "Sorry about that. What was it you wanted to talk about?"

It was a pleasant discussion; they were interested in purchasing a great deal of software and machinery from Thunder Enterprises but were wondering about some of the prices, and Lion-O – with Tygra's help – settled on a deal that gave them a fair discount because of the amount of the purchase. Both were very pleased, and even Tygra had to admit it had gone well. "Thank you, Mr. Rey," the lady said, nodding at both of them.

"That was almost professional. Maybe you don't suck at this as much as I thought you would," Tygra said when they'd gone, along with the cats. Lion-O gave him a bored look.

"I feel the love." He finally finished his bread and apple pastry and wondered how long the event had been going on. Standing up, Lion-O looked around for Mumm-Ra again and spotted him. He looked so old and feeble as he traipsed the floor in his old-fashioned suit.

Tygra followed his gaze and his eyes widened. "What in the world is _he_?"

"That," Lion-O replied, "is Mumm-Ra. And I don't know who that is with him."

"Looks like a bird. I don't like birds. They're usually stuck on themselves and their kind," Tygra observed. Lion-O just gave him a long, long look and shook his head. There was a pot and kettle joke in here somewhere…

The bird was some kind of vulture, dusky brown and nearly black in some places. His eyes were tiny and beady, and his suit was jet black with two slits in the back for his wings. He had been trailing in Mumm-Ra's wake, which looked rather funny considering how tall he was compared to the decrepit figure.

Wait, where had Mumm-Ra gone? He'd been over there a second ago…

Dry nails gently brushed his arm. "Looking for something, Mr. Rey?"

Lion-O jumped and Tygra's fur stood on end as they turned to face the old man, standing quietly behind them. "Ah…Mr. Ammit…just wondering where you were. I saw you earlier."

"Of course. I wouldn't miss another chance to talk to one of the more interesting people in business." Mumm-Ra's eyes slid to Tygra, who fought his fur until it was flatter and he just looked a little surprised. "This must be your brother, Tygra. I've heard a lot about you from my vice president, Grune."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Ammit," Tygra said, extending his paw and shaking Mumm-Ra's raspy fingers. Lion-O saw a jaw muscle twitch and knew he was surprised by the strong, bony grip as he had been a couple months ago. "You've met my brother before in Tretierra, I think?"

"Yes, at my gala. I rather like the different approach of this one. A little lighter…more whimsical," Mumm-Ra said, gesturing to the vulture. He trailed over in silence, lowering his head to avoid towering over the shorter members of the gathering. "Mr. Rey, I am truly sorry about your father. I cannot imagine how horrible it was for both of you to lose him so unexpectedly. Why some people choose to do such unspeakable things to the innocent…"

He shook his head and Lion-O shared a glance with Tygra. _'The kisses of an enemy…?'_

"Thank you Mr. Ammit. We've been doing as well as we can. It's been challenging, but we're doing okay." Lion-O watched Mumm-Ra's face and was impressed that his expression didn't change at all.

"That's good. It sounds as if you are stepping into the leadership role quite innovatively; I've heard through the grapevine that you intend to study and utilize Thundrillium for energy." Lion-O didn't know how Mumm-Ra knew, but there was a gleam to his eyes that made his stomach churn. "I wanted to help you; I think it takes courage to stand up for something new. That's why I brought Vultaire along. He's an expert in chemistry, engineering, and physics." He waved a paw and Vultaire nodded. "He's also a bit of a political at heart, but don't let that put you off."

Lion-O blinked and Tygra said, "Wait. What are you saying?"

"I thought that it would be sporting to give Thunder Enterprises a little extra assistance in such a challenge. Just because we're competitors doesn't mean we can't be cordial."

Vultaire nodded courteously. "It's a pleasure, I'm sure. Mr. Ammit said I might be appreciated at Thunder Enterprises."

Lion-O didn't know what to make of this. Mumm-Ra was trying to get them to hire Vultaire? An expert in the very field they were going into? This was off the level. "Ah…that's very kind of you to go to the trouble, Mr. Ammit," he said. "But we already have a team employed to research Thundrillium. Wouldn't he be better off with your teams?"

Mumm-Ra just smiled. "Alas, he is interested in Thundrillium utilization in its current form. I'm more interested in using it in…another form. And I have already paid him for six months to assist you."

Tygra's eyes narrowed. "You don't expect us to believe that you don't expect something in return?"

Elbowing his brother, Lion-O said, "What my brother means to say is that such generosity must be repaid somehow."

"Not at all. You see, my teams are full and I have no place for him and his current interests. You would actually be repaying a favor from before I did you, if you recall…"

"Yes, when you didn't fire the clumsy caterer. Very generous, that." Lion-O looked up to see Lynxana hovering outside the group, scribbling something. Mumm-Ra – for the first time – looked a bit surprised. "Hello Mr. Rey. You didn't think I'd miss an opportunity to report on one of the biggest goings on in Pantherle did you?" She looked pretty with her mane in waves down her back and a slinky blue dress on, and Lion-O wondered if anybody else he didn't like was going to show up. Maybe the guy that had mugged Cheetara would pop up somewhere…

"Anyway, Mr. Ammit, my name is Lynxana from Pantherle Evening National News. I report on the deals and news of Thunder Enterprises, and it's a pleasure to actually get to talk to you. One of our reporters was present to see your magnanimous favor to Lion-O Rey. Any thoughts on how the future relationship of Black Pyramid and Thunder Enterprises will be impacted by these negotiations?"

Lynxana likely missed it, but Lion-O saw a cold, annoyed look pass Mumm-Ra's face. It was gone in a flash. "My dear, I would love to speak to you just as soon as we're finished here. Then I will be able to give you a definitive answer," he said kindly. Lynxnana accepted this and stepped away to wait. "Very well, Mr. Rey. As the lady said, you owe me favor. Keeping Vultaire busy is a bit of a challenge, but I'm sure you could do it."

Lion-O felt stuck. If he accepted the offer, what would Vultaire be like? Would he be a spy, taking information back to Mumm-Ra? Would he be a hindrance? And he refused, it would look terrible. Such a "generous" favor being rejected, Mumm-Ra the wonderful being snubbed? Company image might plummet…

"…Very well, Mr. Ammit. We'd be honored to have Vultaire with us under your generous conditions," Lion-O said. Mumm-Ra smiled wider.

"Good. Just what I wanted to hear. You can work out the details with him on Monday. Tonight is for fun, is it not?" Mumm-Ra said.

Tygra gave Vultaire a perusing look. "So. You think there's something to Thundrillium?"

"But of course. I've studied its structure and I think it has a great deal of potential." Vultaire looked down his beak at them. "I detect your skepticism, Mr. Tygra Rey."

Tygra smirked. "I'm unconvinced."

"So many are. I liken it to the situation of the ones in the cave of Plato's allegory, closed to enlightenment. I must try to assist you into knowledge," Vultaire said smoothly. "I will see you on Monday, Mr. Lion-O Rey."

Vultaire seemed to see someone he knew and left the group. Mumm-Ra fixed his eyes on Lion-O's and Lion-O felt small and helpless under the red, hungry glare. "I look forward to the next few months, Lion-O. I want to see if you're up to the challenge. Particularly without your lovely Cheetara by your side to give you courage."

And with that Mumm-Ra faded into the people, and Lion-O's heart sped up. What did that mean?

Tygra had not heard this. He was fuming after Vultaire. "That egotistical, inflated…I'm a peon, am I? I wrote a ten-page paper on the Cave allegory and if he thinks I'm going to take his beak-"

Lion-O wandered away from Tygra's tirade, dizzy.

_What did that mean? Did he just mean that Cheetara won't be here, or did he mean something else?_ His mind was racing and he tried to duck attention as he moved across the room, looking for a quiet place to just sit for a moment. But everywhere were people, and he was the VIP of the evening. Eventually he found his way back to the buffet table, hiding by it by pretending to examine some things.

Thirsty, he accepted a cup of punch from one of the caterers, drinking it down and ducking to the side a little when he saw Mumm-Ra again. A couple of people spoke to him and he just nodded and took another cup, strangely still thirsty. If he stayed over here for just a few minutes and collected himself, it would be okay. The evening had done very well so far.

_If Cheetara gets hurt because of me…please don't let her get hurt. God, if someone has to get hurt, let it be me. Please…_

The punch wasn't a familiar flavor, he realized. It was kind of weird, and tingled in his throat. Lion-O slowly threw both cups away in one of the garbage cans. He hadn't tried it before, just seeking something to distract himself with. But…something weird was up. Lion-O had never tried that particular flavor before.

Alcohol. Lion-O remembered the fact that the beverage was alcoholic and nearly slapped himself. Of course, he'd commented on it to Palustri, the silliness of a beverage the CEO couldn't drink. He instantly felt guilty – well he _was _a minor, and Cheetara disapproved in general of drinking more than a glass of wine at celebrations – and wondered if he had drunk enough to affect his mind this evening. It was only two cups of punch. Could it possibly hamper his actions and decisions? Or was it mild drink and was his natural tolerance high enough to shrug it off?

What Lion-O didn't know is that while Claudus' ancestors and Claudus himself had always had alcoholic drink provided at these celebrations, the drink was mixed with vodka, and a rather potent brand of it. The drink was a traditional recipe, and the fruit juice disguised the bitterness of alcohol quite well. He also didn't know that the Reys, all the way back to Leo himself, were notoriously bad drinkers. They had issue holding a cup and were made tipsy by a single mouthful. None of them had ever drunk of the punch at their succession parties.

About forty minutes later would have told him that two cups _were _enough to alter his mental faculties, if only he had any idea what he was doing sitting on the bathroom floor, blinking and shaking his head as if there were flies bothering him.

* * *

><p>Tygra had lost track of Lion-O, but this didn't worry him as he considered the presence of Mumm-Ra from across the room, watching the old creature stalk across the floor.<p>

He looked like a bat, perhaps. But bats had wings. And he didn't see any wings protruding from Mumm-Ra's back. He had the proper skin tone and facial structure, but the lack of wings was just strange. Vultaire crossed his vision and Tygra snorted, giving him a look as he passed by.

Had Mumm-Ra been behind Claudus' death? A part of him had been skeptical – in fact, ninety-percent of him had been – but now that he'd met this shadowy, bizarre figure, he could easily apply murder to him. He had a calculating cleverness to him and Tygra was nothing if not calculating himself. Mumm-Ra just came off as insidious, and he disliked him already.

"So. How has the party been so far? Other than Vultaire's hiring, obviously." Pumyra seemed to appear out of nowhere, lingering beside him. He noticed her mane looked rather nicer down than it did in a ponytail; it was very thick and full, and framing her face it made her jawline look more feminine.

"How did you know about that?"

"Lynxana Catus couldn't talk any louder with a megaphone," she said irritably. "I still don't see why Lion-O didn't just get her fired with the information I gave him." She put a paw on her hip and scanned the crowd, eyes flicking in distaste at some of the people she saw.

"That's easy. Lion-O's got a soft heart. Soft as rotten apple," Tygra said. "That's one of his problems."

Pumyra looked around and spotted Bengali heading into the men's room. Satisfied by this, she said, "Well, I suppose one of you had to end up like your mother."

Tygra bristled. "What would you know about my mother?"

"Mr. Claudus Rey used to speak very highly of her. Lion-O's taken after her softhearted nature from what I've heard. You took after him more is all." She examined the seats across the room and added, "I don't know if your father would have liked to have so many lizards here…he would have sent out fewer invites than Lion-O would have."

Not sure what to say to this – and struck by the uncomfortable idea that Lion-O was, in fact, a lot like Mom in more than looks – Tygra just cleared his throat. But Pumyra squinted across the room and said, "Something's wrong. Bengali's upset."

Tygra found the white fur amongst the colors easily as Bengali ducked around the people and hopped over tails, hurrying to his sister. He came very close and murmured, "Lion-O is in the bathroom and I think he drank some punch."

Brows furrowing, Pumyra smoothed Bengali's forelock. "…Run that by me again?"

"Okay. I went into the bathroom to get some quiet because there are a lot of people and it's noisy, only there was one person in there and it was Lion-O. And he was sitting on the floor, talking to himself. And I smelled his breath and it smelled like the fruit punch on the adult table, the kind with alcohol."

The lunacy of this meant that it didn't make much sense to Tygra initially. He had to blink several times, and when he finally realized that it wasn't a joke and that Bengali was serious, he said, "You have _got _to be kidding me."

"No. No I'm not. I put him in a bathroom stall and told him to be quiet. You've gotta come help." Bengali grabbed Pumyra's paw and tugged at her. She stumbled forward and darted after him and Tygra paced alongside, keeping up with Bengali's long-legged stride.

_If anybody finds out about this, his image will be trashed. Thunder Enterprises will be laughed at. How in the world could his holiness Saint Lion-O stoop to drinking underage?_

The bathrooms were clean and purple on the walls with white tile on the floor. The stall doors were black, matching the sinks and frames of the mirrors. The urinals were white, although one looked like somebody had dropped a cigarette in one. Classy. Tygra stooped, checking for others in the stalls. The only person was Lion-O. Thank goodness. "Pumyra, stand outside and tell the gentlecats to use another restroom, that there's someone feeling under the weather in here."

"Got it." She pulled her head back out the door and Tygra knocked on the stall door.

"Lion-O? Lion-O it's me, Tygra."

The sound of feet on the floor made him tense. "Tygra? Hey…um, I think I kinda…drank something I shouldn'ta. Is that bad?" Lion-O's voice was almost amused and a little slow.

"Did you drink the green punch on the table?" Tygra asked patiently.

"Mm-hm."

"Why?"

"I was thirsty. I forgot…which one had alcohol in it. Hey, is Bengali out there? Hiii…"

Bengali looked at Tygra. "He said he drank it by accident. Um…he's really sloshed."

Tygra muttered and buried his face in his paw. "It's a Rey thing. Even Dad couldn't hold a cup. They just have no tolerance. And considering that Lion-O is less than half Dad's size and probably drank…how much did you drink?"

"True-blue-two. "

"All right, two cups. Whiskers, you couldn't have just run into a wall or something. Look, has anyone other than Bengali been in here and seen you?"

Lion-O leaned on the door and fumblingly unlocked it. Tygra reached for his arm and smelled the punch on his brother's breath. Lion-O blinked a couple of times and said, "Uh…no. Beng-y was the only one I saw." He then waved at Bengali, smiling. "Boy, this party is boring isn't it? There's no movies or nothin'."

Bengali tilted his head. "This won't look good, will it?"

"Gee, a minor getting drunk at his own succession party and getting arrested? No, this will not look good! Whiskers!" Tygra glared at Lion-O, who seemd more interested in poking the tuft of mane on Bengali's forehead and giggling. "At least he's a happy drunk. Look, we need to get him out of here without anyone hearing him or seeing him."

Bengali bit his index finger's middle knuckle. "How?"

"I don't know!" Tygra snapped. Bengali finally made Lion-O stop messing with the stray tuft of mane when Lion-O started twirling it around his finger. "All I know is he's drunk and is acting like a bigger idiot than ever!" He transferred Lion-O to Bengali and the cub let Lion-O lean on him and hug him. "Sick. We'll say he's feeling sick, like he's got a stomach bug. He's unwell and I have to take him home."

"You're my bud, Bengali. We're buds," Lion-O said dreamily. Bengali just patted his head soothingly.

"But…that's lying. He's not feeling sick."

"Give him a few hours and he will be," Tygra said grimly. He tugged Lion-O to the sink and started running the hot water. "Okay, hold still."

Bengali watching, Tygra dabbed water over Lion-O's face strategically to make him look sweaty, and he put some at the roots of Lion-O's mane for a similar effect. "Lion-O, you need to shut up and look sick, okay? Don't say anything to anyone and keep your eyes shut so no one sees how your pupils have dilated."

"How'm I supposed to see…if my eyes are shut?" Lion-O asked. Tygra rolled his own eyes and picked Lion-O up. Lion-O was stable enough on his feet but there was no way he could possibly avoid looking at people if he were walking. "Whoo…you haven't given me a piggyback ride since I was two." Lion-O cuddled in against Tygra and looked sleepy, shutting his eyes obediently. Bengali paused to make his eyebrows look a little tensed, nudging them so they seemed disheveled from vomiting.

"It's not a piggyback ride," Bengali noted. Tygra just gave him a look.

"Walk ahead of us and keep people from getting too close. Tell Pumyra we're coming outside."

Bengali did this and Tygra pushed the bathroom door open and carried Lion-O through. "Mr. Rey! Is your brother all right?" someone immediately asked.

"Lion-O's been feeling a little ill lately, and I think the stress just caught up to him," Tygra replied, turning Lion-O's head a little so his face was concealed against his brother's neck. Thankfully Lion-O said nothing and was content to be carried. "He felt faint in the restroom. He'll be all right with some rest over the weekend."

This seemed to quiet most of the questions. Lion-O's "sweaty" mane seemed to lend credibility to the story, and Bengali kept everyone far enough away that no one could smell the punch. And then Tygra saw Lynxana.

His mental vocabulary became very profane at that point. "Mr. Rey, what's happened to Lion-O?" she demanded, forgetting to refer to Lion-O politely. Tygra pointedly ignored her and Pumyra appeared in front of the woman, nudging her back.

"He's sick. Caught a bug or something. Move out of the way." Pumyra gave her a filthy look and followed Tygra and Bengali a certain distance before heading up the steps to the stage. "Ladies and gentlecats, please excuse this interruption. Lion-O Rey is feeling under the weather and has to take his leave a little early. If any of you have matters to discuss about Thunder Enterprises, please feel free to talk to Concolo and the other board members."

During this short speech Tygra slipped out the door with Lion-O and took him to his car. It was a chore to unlock the car door with his arms full so he unceremoniously dumped Lion-O into Bengali's arms, not really caring if he knocked the cub over. But Bengali caught Lion-O and actually held him up, looking rather surprised that Tygra had been so careless. Tygra stared as he took out his keys and asked, "Do you lift weights?"

"No. Well, sometimes in gym class. And he's not heavy." Lion-O was petting the tuft of fur again and Tygra took him as he opened the door, sitting his brother in the passenger seat. The parking lot was empty, spanning a huge space, and Tygra was glad to shut the door on Lion-O. Bengali looked through the window at Lion-O's wobbly smile and wave. "You'll look after him, won't you?"

Tygra snorted. "I'll take him into his apartment if that's what you're asking. He's a big boy; he'll take care of himself."

Bengali frowned. "Wait a second, he might not know what to do if he's hung over-!"

Acting as if Bengali weren't there, Tygra got into the car, buckled Lion-O in, and left. Bengali shrank in the rearview mirror and finally headed in as Tygra turned the corner out of the parking lot.

For a while it was peaceful enough other than Tygra chewing Lion-O out for getting drunk. Lion-O took it all without protest, and even though Tygra was pretty sure it was all going in one ear and out the other, it felt pretty good to just gripe at him and go on uninterrupted for thirty minutes.

Lion-O wasn't taking in a word. He was just staring out the window, laughing vaguely once or twice. Tygra wondered if it would be criminal to find the nearest garden hose to spray him with in order to wake him up, then decided that he just ought to dump Lion-O off back at the apartment. If he was this drunk from just a couple cups, he was going to be feeling it in the morning tomorrow, and that would be a suitable discipline for his stupidity.

"This could have ruined us, Lion-O. Do you have any idea how bad it would have looked for you to be drunk? I'm just hoping everyone believed you were sick! The crap I have to pull you out of…"

Actually, he realized grudgingly, this kind of situation was pretty rare. He didn't call his brother "holy" and "saint" for nothing. His behavior was generally pristine. And after some consideration he calmed himself; Lion-O hadn't howled at him for an hour when he came in a little less than sober…and he'd been drinking on purpose. And granted, he'd yelled because he'd been scared Tygra would be hurt…the idea hadn't really occurred to _him._

After a minute he realized Lion-O was looking at him. His brother's cheeks were pink and his eyes were glazed, a faint smile on his face. "Will you take me home?"

Tygra snorted. "Where do you think we're going? I'm dropping you off there. If you have to throw up, let me know."

Lion-O snickered. "Ah…we'll be driving a long, _looong _time. Can we stop? I'll have to go before we get there."

Tygra stared at him. "What?"

"I gotta go number one." Lion-O frowned, almost pouting. "Darn. I didn't mean to say that."

Tygra shook his head. "We're only five minutes away from your apartment. Can't you hold it?"

"No…that's not where I wanna go." Then, to Tygra's chagrin, Lion-O tried opening the car door. Tygra stopped the car and uttered a word, and Lion-O mumbled, "Mama wouldn't like you to say that stuff."

"Where exactly do you want to go?" Tygra asked impatiently. Lion-O had left off pulling on the door, apparently too dim to figure out how to unlock the latch in order to open it. Lion-O paused.

"Home."

"Which is…?"

Lion-O smiled drunkenly. "Where Cheetara is. And Jaga and Kit and Kat…heh heh…hey, they're like a Kit-Kat bar…never noticed that."

Tygra leaned back in his seat and held his head. "Let me get this straight. You want to go to Tretierra."

"Mm-hm."

"Right now."

"Yeah."

"When you're drunk."

Lion-O curled up in the seat like he was five and snuggled into the upholstery. "Do you have a map? 'Cuz I don't know the way."

"Lion-O, I'm not driving you to Tretierra at two in the morning. It's hundreds of miles. It'd take about sixteen hours to drive there." It was very hard not to reach over and smack Lion-O repeatedly right now.

"…I don't think I can hold it that long."

With a swift cuff of his paw, Tygra batted Lion-O's arm. It wasn't terribly hard but Lion-O recoiled, curling up tighter in the seat and staring at him. "I am taking you home, and you should feel pretty lucky for that. Moron…can't figure out he's drinking alcohol and then he wants to drive all night…stupid." Tygra started the car again and pulled away from the sidewalk, driving a little faster this time.

It took about two minutes for him to notice that Lion-O was still staring at him. Only this time his eyes were big and he wasn't smiling or laughing.

Tygra rolled his eyes. "What do you want _now_?"

Half of Lion-O's face pressed against the seat and he could only see one eye perfectly in the oncoming headlights. "I wanna go home."

"That's where we're going."

"No. I wanna go home. Back to Tretierra. With Cheetara. I miss her."

Tygra's claws dug into the steering wheel. Lion-O seemed to notice the tendons in his paws and watched them bulge. "Yeah, run back to Cheetara like a little cub. Cripes, you're not a lover to her; you're just a kid looking for someone to mommy you."

Lion-O blinked. "I'm her boyfriend. Not her lover. I believe in not having specks…um…sex until marriage."

Mildly surprised at this moment of relative clarity, Tygra looked at him again. "Good. She deserves better than you for a first. She's too kind to break up with you I guess. Cheetara shouldn't have to be tied to some second-rate loser like you."

Looking down, Lion-O mumbled, "She said I'm not second-rate. She said I was amazing."

He rubbed his eye sleepily and Tygra blew a frustrated breath out. The apartment building was finally within sight, and he entered the parking lot and parked with a jerk. "Amazingly annoying?"

"No. Just amazing. And nice." Lion-O rubbed his eye harder.

Tygra put his elbow on the armrest and said, "Sorry Lion-O. But I don't quite buy that. You're the least amazing person I've ever met."

From under his eyelashes Lion-O gazed at his brother, and Tygra's stomach clenched uncomfortably; he looked a lot like Mom in the poor light. Lion-O licked his lips, sleepily, and then he rested his head on the seat again. "…She said she loved me."

Tygra stiffened with hatred. "Liar."

Lion-O's tone was dreamy. "I said I loved her and she said she loved me back. And she didn't care if we were far apart because…she treasured the rel-relation…relationship. That's it."

Tygra couldn't help but blink when Lion-O said, "I love her so much. She's the kindest person in the whole world."

Looking at Lion-O, Tygra just stared at the dilated pupils and bright blue irises. He'd never heard Lion-O say that. Seeing that his brother had responded to this, Lion-O continued, "She's smart and nice and pretty…I miss her really bad. I want to go back to where she and the kittens and Jaga and Panthro are. Maybe Bengali could come too. That'd be nice. 'N me and Cheetara can be together, and we'll look after the kittens, and I'll go to college to be an engineer…or a teacher."

"You don't want to be the boss of Thunder Enterprises?" Tygra asked coolly.

Lion-O made a face. "You can have Thunder Enterprises. I don't want it. I wanna be an inventor and a teacher and marry Cheetara someday. If she says yes. I'd better to wait to ask her, though…"

Tygra situated himself so his torso was facing his brother. "You don't want Thunder Enterprises. Okay, look, I know you've griped about it before, but just because there have been a few bad days and you're not a pro at it yet-"

"I hate it. If I didn't have to be boss, I'd leave and go back home. I try and try, but all you do is say I suck, and people look at me like I'm stupid. Cheetara and the others never said I sucked. They love me more than Dad did…but I still love Dad. But see, _they're_ my family." He said this as if telling a deep secret, in hushed tones.

"And I am…what?" Tygra said. And for the first time, there wasn't even a hint of sarcasm. Lion-O spoke with impunity and honesty under the effects of alcohol.

Lion-O looked at him under drooping eyelids and Tygra could have sworn his mother was sitting there, curled up in a coat with her mane cut short. His eyes were the exact same shape and took the same exhausted shade as the night she'd died. "…You're my brother. But you hate me. You always have. And I'm tired of it. You're always saying I take things away when I don't even want to be a boss."

He curled up a little more. "I didn't mean to take Cheetara away. She liked me. Nobody ever liked me before Tretierra…if I go back there, you don't ever have to see me again. Then you'll be happy." The faintly dejected, childish quiet after this was where he closed his eyes and his breathing deepened.

And the faint snore told Tygra that Lion-O had fallen asleep. He sat in the car for a minute, watching Lion-O sleep in the seat. He was curled up like a cub, but his face had the marks of someone starting to sleep badly at night. And this close his fur had lost some luster. It was amazing what you could see when the bright lights of the public had been taken away. He looked like someone had taken a drawing of Lion-O, modified it so there were faint lines under his eyes and slightly more prominent cheek bones.

Tygra got out and walked around the car to open the passenger door, prodding Lion-O until he stirred and stumbled onto the pavement. "Come on. You need to drink water and get some sleep."

Lion-O held on to his arm and walked with his eyes only a quarter open. Apparently Lion-O hadn't had to go very badly, for Tygra managed to get him to bed – he offered Snarf a little information, but he was too terse to speak much – and arranged Lion-O so he was on his stomach and his face was right by the edge of the mattress without any issue. He also took a garbage can from the bathroom, setting it beside the bed in case Lion-O woke up with the need to hurl. Lion-O flatly refused water, too sleepy and grumpy to bother with anymore. "Look after him, would you?"

Snarf snorted and sat by Lion-O's chest, sniffing his face and wondering at the funny odor.

Tygra left, but even though he was alone as he drove to his own apartment, he kept turning his head. Because he kept feeling like there was a set of blue eyes looking at him with sad disappointment and long, feminine eyelashes.

* * *

><p><em>He got down on all fours, squishing his fluffy hat better over his head. It kept slipping. Then he got down again and hissed, watching his breath mist. "Rar! Raaaahr! I'm the dragon! I took the princess!" The snow didn't soak through his jacket, so his thick pajamas were safe.<em>

_She wrapped her long coat around her tighter. It seemed to billow like a princess's gown. She sat down and picked up the little model of a knight she'd thrown together; he was a puppet made of aluminum foil with a plastic straw taped to his paw. A dragon was going to destroy him after all. He needed to be crushable. "I'm the knight! I braved snowy lands to bring the princess back and marry her!"_

_He hissed again and flapped his arms as best he could in his thick clothes. "No! The princess is my friend, and she doesn't want to marry you! She thinks you're a meanie head and she wants to be a chef instead! I won't let you take her back! You won't let her make cookies because you're a…a helf nut…no, a health nut!"_

_She set aside the knight for a minute. "That's right. I like being with my friend the dragon, and he's very nice." Her slim fingers patted his cheek. "And he's a cute baby dragon! Somebody's got to take care of him."_

_He growled fiercely. It was a high coo. "I'm ferocious! I'll fight you, knight!"_

_The knight got up defiantly, standing in the snow. "Well her father said she had to marry me, so there!" He charged, skipping over the snow._

_The mighty dragon flapped his arms one more time and with another, "Roooaaar!" he jumped on the knight. It took a terrible battle of batting at the aluminum foil and rolling in the snow, but at last the knight lay defeated and nursing his booboos. "Go back home! The princess can go wherever she wants now!" the dragon said proudly, paws on his hips._

_"Okay, okay! I'll go marry Rapunzel instead. The only thing I gotta do to marry her is climb her hair!" The knight trudged off through the snow and never returned._

_And then the beautiful princess grabbed the baby dragon in her arms and whirled him around. "Thank you, brave dragon! You sure told that mean knight what for."_

_She tickled him and Lion-O wiggled. "No problem, Princess Mommy. Will you make cookies for me sometime? And visit my cave? It gets lonely up there."_

_Mom smiled. Her hat covered her short mane, and she seemed thin, but she was as beautiful as any storybook princess. "All the time, baby dragon. I'll come and give you lots of hugs and kisses and stories."_

_He snuggled in, nose cold and cheeks pink. "Mommy…I really do want some cookies. Can we make some?"_

_She kissed his face and carried him in from the back yard. It was much warmer in the house and she started peeling off his jacket and mittens and hat, along with the weatherproof pants she'd put over his jammies. "I've already got some, honey." He helped her take off her hat and she shrugged out of her jacket, hanging the items up to dry beside the door. "Here, you can have two." She opened the cookie jar but before she could take any her paw dropped to her chest and she turned away from the jar to cough._

_"Mommy? Are you too cold?" Lion-O felt guilty; he'd asked her to play in the snow with him._

_"It's not that. It's just…" she coughed again. "Um. Remember when Daddy and I told you Mommy has a sick spot in her tummy?"_

_He nodded, cookies forgotten as he butted up against her. "The sick spot is on Mommy's esophagus now too." Her voice was hoarse, like she was talking around twigs. "Can you say esophagus?"_

_"Eh-soff-ah-guss." She smiled._

_"Pretty close."_

_Lion-O then realized something and tugged on her paw. "Mommy?" he whispered._

_"What?" she whispered back._

_"I gotta pee."_

_Potty training was daunting, but he was three whole years old! Tygra had finished learning at two, and Lion-O wanted to catch up. That, and Mommy and Daddy seemed to like the fact that he went in the toilet. He wasn't exactly sure why, but maybe training pants were expensive or something._

_She praised him softly for telling her and followed him to the bathroom and set up the training seat. After he finished she lifted him to the sink so he could wash his paws. But as he dried them she began coughing again, so hard that she had to sit down. Lion-O sat with her on the bathroom floor and bit his lip until she stopped, wheezing for breath. "Sorry."_

_Lion-O held her paw and scrunched up his face. She coughed again and he said, "I'm making a dragon wish. Dragons can live forever, and they're friends with unicorns. I'm going to wish one here so she'll make you better, Mommy. Then you won't cough anymore, and when spring comes we'll beat bad knights in the flowers and sunshine. And you can put dandelions in your mane because it'll be long again."_

_Mommy settled more comfortably on the bathroom floor beside him and kissed his forehead. "My dreamer. You have fantastic dreams. I hope you keep dreaming them, because that's the way wonderful things come about."_

_Lion-O looked up at her and kissed her nose. "Now we've just gotta wait for a unicorn," he said._

_She started to smile, and just barely clapped a paw to her lips. She pushed him gently from her lap and turned to the toilet, grabbing the seat and coughing again._

_Red stuff came out of her mouth. Dark red stuff. And after ten whole seconds where she just kept gasping and tensing, Lion-O spun on his heel, running down the hall until he reached the table that held the phone. It was too tall for him so he grabbed the cord and pulled it down to the floor. He couldn't read very many letters at all, and Daddy had taken Tygra to the special first grade orientation. It was a big deal because he was smarter than all the kindergartners, so he was skipping the grade. They were supposed to be home soon…why did this have to happen when it was only Lion-O with Mommy?_

_So he did the only thing he knew how to do, from listening to Mommy when she had told him what to do if he ever needed the police._

_He pressed the nine, then the one, then the one again. It was a number for emergencies only. "Hello, nine-one-one; what is the nature of your emergency?" the person asked._

_"My mommy is sick. Her tummy hurts and red stuff is coming out of her mouth. She's throwing up," he said, claws pricking against the plastic._

_"She's vomiting? How old are you, sweetheart?"_

_"Three. Can you come give her some medicine?"_

_The woman sounded worried, but she spoke clearly and with deliberation. "I'll send an ambulance. Is your Daddy there? Do you know where you live?"_

_"No…hang on." He dropped the phone and sprinted back to the bathroom. "Mommy…mommy, where do we live? The lady says she'll send a amboolants, but I don't know where we live."_

_Her chest was heaving and she held her stomach. Lion-O saw the roots of her mane and fur were dark with sweat and she looked at him. She had to swallow before she said, "F-Four-two-nine…Felina Street…"_

_Lion-O dashed back to the phone, slipping and sliding on the smooth floor in his pajamas. "Four-two-nine Felina Street, lady! Mommy said four-two-nine Felina Street," he called._

_"The ambulance is on the way. Go tell her that, and sit still with her. Be nice and quiet, and if she tells you to do something, do it. It won't be long sweetheart."_

_He hung up the phone and found his mother slumped over the toilet seat, breathing heavily. "Mommy…the amboolants is coming," he said softly, sitting beside her._

_"Good boy. So smart, remembering…the emergency number…"_

_She placed a paw on her abdomen. The front door slammed and Lion-O jumped up and ran out to see Daddy and Tygra, finally home. "Mommy is sick and I called the amboolants! Daddy, come help Mommy!"_

_He talked too fast but Claudus still followed him, Tygra running ahead and whispering, "Mama?" when he saw her. She did her best to smile._

_"How was the orientation? I'm so proud of you…"_

_But the memory was fading, because his head was starting to hurt._

And the world was suddenly bright.

Lion-O woke up on his bed with Snarf curled up by his side. He was on his stomach, face hanging off the edge of the bed over a garbage can.

That was about all he managed to figure out before the world buckled and spun, and he became aware of the intense nausea boiling in his stomach. It made him think of pond scum and dead fish, rotting things on the back of his tongue.

Lion-O slowly clambered to his hands and knees, bracing himself on all fours with difficulty. He swayed; his muscles were jelly.

_What…what happened?_

"Snarf?" he mumbled. Air on his tongue was painful and he realized he was desperately thirsty. Snarf stirred and stretched, meowing at him.

Lion-O stood up at last, wobbling. He leaned on the wall and then the world seemed to whirl and twist. He shut his eyes and his head began to throb, feeling like a water balloon. And then nausea slammed into his stomach. Lion-O cupped a paw to his mouth and headed for the bathroom.

He barely made it, crashing to his knees to clutch the toilet bowl. It took about thirty seconds of retching before his stomach was emptied and he could slump to the side, exhausted. The acid and bitter aftertaste made him turn again to spit, and Lion-O clutched his stomach. Puking had helped the nausea only a little, but now there was no relief; there was nothing else to throw up.

Snarf approached timidly, patting Lion-O's arm. Lion-O looked up to the sink and felt his thirst again, and tried to get up.

Bad move. The world went black and he narrowly missed banging his head on the toilet on his way down.

Snarf began to yammer and tug his mane but Lion-O just lay still, feeling swollen and sick, and at last remembered that he'd drunk something last night. _Why did two drinks affect me so bad…?_ he pondered sluggishly. _What was the alcohol proof in that stuff? _He wanted to get up and get a drink of water so badly, but he wasn't sure he could move.

Everything was just black and empty for a while, interrupted by Snarf's squealing and poking and mewing. Poor Snarf didn't have any idea what was going on. But Lion-O's head was hazy, and his mouth was sore, and he managed to groan once. He tried to say "water" but his tongue felt numb.

And then in the dark dizziness, Lion-O suddenly tasted water. It was cool like milk and sweeter than sugar, and he took slow sips of it. A cool cloth was applied to his face, cleaning away sweat and the spittle from his chin. His shirt – uncomfortable, dirty – was off and then Lion-O felt like he was being carried.

He managed to open his eyes. The only thing he saw was a pale paw and the dark blur of stripes.

_Tygra…?_

He was deposited in his bed and the cat pulled the blanket over him and Lion-O sighed, the pillow feeling better against his aching head. "Thanks…"

The tiger had him sit up long enough to take an aspirin and drink a little more water.

Perhaps two hours later Lion-O woke up again. His head hurt slightly less and his stomach wasn't as nauseated.

The blankets were a little rumpled and Lion-O sat up. Memories of the night before were faint and fuzzy, and he nursed the bridge of his nose. He'd drunk some of the punch because Mumm-Ra had shown up, scaring him…

And then he found out there was alcohol in it. He groaned and buried his face in his paws. What had he done? Everything was a drunken blur, and if he'd done something embarrassing, who had seen it? Had he done something terrible? Did anybody know he'd gotten drunk? He was only eighteen…he could get arrested.

Then again, if he was here, he hadn't been.

Lion-O heard someone in the kitchen and slowly moved his feet so they dangled over the edge of the bed, toes slowly finding stability on the carpet. The sound of feet on the tile combined with the clicks of Snarf's claws, and Lion-O ambled down the hall carefully. He peered around the corner of the doorframe and blinked at who he saw.

"…Bengali?"

The white tiger's ears perked up and he turned around. He was wearing jeans and what looked like a pajama shirt. "Lion-O. Are you feeling any better?" he asked. Snarf turned away from the kitchen counter and hurried to Lion-O's side. Meowing indignantly at being made to worry, Snarf sat at his feet and crossed his forepaws.

"A little. What are you doing here?" Lion-O's tongue worked better and he smelled toast. Bengali had a plate with several pieces on it, all with thin layers of jam on them, and a couple with butter on the other side.

"Last night you were pretty out of it. And I wasn't sure if anyone was going to check on you. So I came over." He set the plate on the table and tugged out the chair, pointing to it to indicate Lion-O should sit.

"What time is it?" Bengali looked at the clock and Lion-O tried to focus on it.

"Um, seven. I've been here since six."

Lion-O blinked and rubbed his eyes. "How'd you get here that early? The only bus here wouldn't arrive for another ten minutes, unless they changed it…"

"The bus doesn't go from our apartment to this one. I called a cab. The driver thought I was eighteen, so he didn't ask for any identification." Bengali poured a glass of water with ice in it and added, "That was good, but I still felt bad for breaking the rules."

"You called a cab?" Lion-O was a little impressed; at twelve he wouldn't have had the guts to ride in a cab all the way to someone else's apartment. "Wait, did Pumyra give you the money? I'll reimburse her, it's my fault you worried enough to come over-"

"No. I used my money." Bengali shrugged when Lion-O gazed at him. "I was worried. And I had some saved up. I do errands for the people that live by us that Pumyra knows, and they give me a few dollars for them." He sat down and started chewing on his own piece of toast. "You should get food in your stomach, along with water. It'll make you feel better."

Lion-O bemusedly did as he was bid. "Bengali…you didn't have to do that. You worked hard for that money I'm sure, and you used it on me because I did something stupid…" he said partway through the first piece.

Snarf had his own plate, and Bengali thoughtfully gave him the jelly jar. "You didn't mean to get drunk, did you?" he asked, and there was a tentative fear in the way he looked at Lion-O. "I mean, you said you didn't last night, but…"

Shaking his head, Lion-O said, "I didn't know the punch had alcohol. I wouldn't have drunk it if I knew that. I got thirsty and I kind of liked the flavor. That's all."

For some reason this made Bengali relax, a taut thread in his spine releasing. "Okay."

The water felt good in Lion-O's mouth as he sipped it. Suddenly remembering what had worried him, Lion-O asked, "What did I do? I don't remember very well."

Bengali finished chewing another bite and said, "Well, I don't think anybody noticed anything. You went into the bathroom and I saw you go in, so I followed you because you looked like you didn't feel good. And then I smelled your breath, and there was alcohol on it. So I put you in a stall and told you to be quiet, and then I got Sis and Mr. Tygra. He got you out of there saying you had a virus and brought you back here. Then I guess he went home."

Lion-O rubbed the bridge of his nose and said, "I woke up in bed. I guess he guided me there and put a garbage can right by my head."

"Did he make sure you were on your front so you couldn't throw up in your mouth?" Bengali's frank question returned him to nausea but Lion-O nodded. "Good. If you fell asleep it's not as dangerous as if you passed out. But you're supposed to put someone on their side or front if they get drunk," he said matter-of-factly.

"How do you know that?" Lion-O asked. Pumyra didn't strike him as the drinking type, and she certainly wouldn't let him watch any programming featuring heavy drinking on television. Bengali suddenly became interested in his plate, and Snarf climbed into Lion-O's lap, yammering and scolding. "I'm sorry Snarf, I didn't do it on purpose."

He was still tired, and Bengali told him to get some more sleep. "It's Saturday, and you're getting water. I think you'll feel better by the end of the day," he said. Bengali even offered to do the dishes. Lion-O went to bed again and curled up under the covers and was out again within a few minutes.

The ring of the phone woke him, and his head and stomach felt distinctly better. Snarf was asleep on the other pillow, so he shifted off the mattress as easily as possible and crept out the door to check the phone in the sitting room. But Bengali had already answered it and he stopped outside the door.

"This is Bengali. Yes, Lion-O is all right." He paused. "I gave him painkiller and had him drink water. He threw up in the toilet this morning and passed out in front of it." Silence. "No, I carried him back to bed. He's had a little toast. No, I didn't give him Tylonel. I know it's bad for your liver with alcohol."

Lion-O stepped into the room and saw Bengali standing by the table that held the phone. His face was set and Lion-O wondered who he was talking to. "I called a taxi to come check on him. I wasn't sure if you'd stay overnight to make sure he was okay." He gave the phone a look. "No, he's sleeping again. I'm not going to bother him because you think I'm too dumb to know whether someone is really sick or not." Lion-O heard a little noise from the phone and leaned on the doorframe, listening. "You didn't have to say it. I knew what you meant. He's starting to feel better. I'll have him call back when he wakes up-"

He coughed, declaring his presence. Bengali looked up and said, "He just woke up. Here." He gave Lion-O the phone and his scowl plainly said, "Tygra."

"Hello?" Lion-O rubbed his eyes and sat down on the couch rather than stand by the table.

"Lion-O? Are you all right? Did that kid do anything stupid?" Tygra didn't sound worried exactly, but he only talked so sharply when he was either angry or nervous, and Lion-O hoped it was the latter.

"No. He's taken care of me." Lion-O thought for a second, realizing what Bengali had said. "He really carried me back to my room. Wow. I didn't about that until now. And he gave me water and painkiller. He said he came at six."

Tygra took this in and said, "Well, thank your lucky stars that nobody saw you drunk last night. We found you and got you out of there saying you felt sick. That could have ruined a lot of things, your reputation for one. How do you not realize a drink is alcoholic? It burns on the way down."

Lion-O shrugged. "It just tasted like punch to me. And I was upset about something Mumm-Ra said. I guess I didn't pay any attention. I'm…I'm sorry. It was really stupid of me. I didn't know what I was doing."

At the apology Tygra sighed. "I guess no harm was done. And to be fair, you've never had any alcohol. Just…agh, never drink again. Okay?"

"Okay. Were you…worried…about me?" Lion-O couldn't help but ask.

Tygra coughed and Lion-O heard the television in the background. "Anyway, that's not the only reason I called."

_Of course not_. Lion-O rested the phone on his shoulder and said, "Okay, what else is up?"

"You remember that Lynxana woman from last night, right?" Lion-O only groaned in reply. Taking this as a yes, Tygra said, "Turn on your T.V. PENN has a special on last night, and they've been going on about their channel upgrade. The deal with Mumm-Ra is plastered everywhere."

Lion-O found the remote sitting on the cough cushion and hit the power button. Skipping through the channels, he paused when he saw Lynxana's pretty, smug face on the screen and said, "Got it."

"…I personally thought Mumm-Ra very distinguished, although you can tell he's used to being in command. Lion-O Rey initially wasn't too interested in his generous offer for some reason, but considering how kind Mr. Ammit has been, I think he made the right decision accepting the offer of aid."

There was another cat sitting beside Lynxana now and Lion-O rolled his eyes upon realizing that it was the black and white cat. He was in a suit and tie and he was looking right at Lynxana, whose dress was a silvery color and, as always, revealed a little more chest than was necessary. He shook his head. "Well, it would look pretty awful not to repay him with a little request like that, wouldn't it?"

"Oh yes, it would be quite an insult not to." Lynxana indicated the screen behind them and said, "Well, at any rate, perhaps he was distracted by a virus. After all, Lion-O wasn't feeling too well last night, was he?" A picture of Lion-O being carried – he looked away in embarrassment – out by Tygra appeared. "Apparently he's been under a lot of stress lately. Who can blame the kid? Still, the whole gathering went over well and impressed the locals, particularly among the non-feline community."

"I agree. I suppose a weekend of rest will give him time to recuperate, and start analyzing Thundrillium with Vultaire Rapax on Monday. And we'll be here to give you all the information on Thunder Enterprises as their exclusive news team outlet. We've expanded to a two hour segment every evening Monday through Friday, and a special hour on Saturday morning, as you can obviously see." Lion-O wanted to throw something at their faces, but he just turned it off.

"Okay, I can't take more than forty-five seconds of that. So viewership is booming if they've increased the hours for the show," he muttered.

"Oh yeah. I checked the ratings. Their viewership is up by five million since they started reporting scoops on up. It's crazy." Tygra sounded frustrated. "Why did you have to make a deal with them?"

"It was the best option I had! Look, they agreed to leave Tretierra and to leave the employees alone if I gave them some information. And it's easier than dealing with a hundred press groups." Lion-O looked into the hall and saw that Snarf was sitting with Bengali, looking at the pictures on the wall. "Look, right now I'm more worried about Vultaire and Mumm-Ra. Listen, before I…well, drank that stuff, Mumm-Ra said something you apparently didn't hear."

He relayed the mention of Cheetara to Tygra and his brother growled. "That's not good. I don't think he meant he was going after her though. It sounded more like it was because you're down here and you two are separated. I guess you can never be sure, but I it's Vultaire I'm worried about right now."

Vultaire was a concern, but for Lion-O Cheetara and the Cleras were the most important factors. He reluctantly said, "I guess we'll have to deal with him on Monday. I don't trust him personally, but what else could I do but agree to take him on. I mean, Mumm-Ra paid him to 'help out.'"

"No, you were right. There's not much else you could have done. Doesn't make it any better. Then again, considering I _still _think Thundrillium is just another sample of a girl's best friend…" Tygra added.

"Oh, shut up. I-hold on. There's someone on the other line." The faint chime told him he had another call, and Lion-O hit the button and held the phone to his ear again. "Hello?"

"Lion-O, have you seen Bengali? Because he's not in his room and I can't find him and I've searched all the surrounding neighborhood and he's not here! I couldn't think of anyone else to try, he isn't friends with anyone else-! I thought he might have called you!"

Lion-O nearly dropped the phone. Pumyra's voice was somewhere between a roar and a shriek, terrified and angry all at the same time and Lion-O babbled weakly, "Pumyra…um, he's here. Bengali is at my apartment."

The long, heavy silence over the phone made him wonder if she were going to scream or cry. She did neither and he thought he heard her slump into a chair. "He's…there? With you? How-?"

"He told me that he was worried about me this morning for…erm, for obvious reasons. And that he took a cab to get here. Would you like to talk to him?" Lion-O stomach was in knots; Bengali had forgotten to tell Pumyra where he was going? He hadn't even left a note? She said yes and Lion-O felt a little bad for the cub when he covered the mouthpiece and called, "Bengali? Pumyra's on the phone. And she's a little irritated."

Bengali peeped in from the hall, having left to give Lion-O time to talk to his brother. His ears were lowered and he mumbled, "I knew I forgot something…"

It was such a silly, childish thing that Lion-O almost didn't want to hand him the phone to get chewed out. Then again, Pumyra had been losing it. She'd even called him by his first name. He observed the manner of scolding by the way Bengali's ears slunk lower and then perked and then slid one way and the other. It seemed to involve, "How could you leave without telling me?" and, "I was so worried," and, "You ought to feel ashamed that you didn't ask me," and, "I supposed I understand why you were worried, I'm just glad you're safe." He talked to her for a minute and when the call was over Lion-O took the phone.

"She says I'm grounded for a week, and she's coming to pick me up in a couple hours." Bengali shuffled his feet. "I didn't mean to worry her. That was so dumb, forgetting like that."

Tygra was almost amused at the fact that Pumyra had nearly blown Lion-O's eardrum out because of Bengali. "I guess that'll teach him to run off without telling her."

Bengali was sitting in the kitchen looking chastened and Lion-O said quietly, "It was a mistake. But it was awfully nice of him to come check on me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tygra shot.

"I'm just saying that he was worried about me. It's kind of nice is all."

Lion-O rubbed his temples and Tygra asked, after a moment of deliberation, "Do you remember anything from last night after the bathroom?"

"No. I don't. And I'd rather not talk about it anymore. Look, I'll deal with Vultaire. I'm going to sleep a little more over the weekend to try to get rid of this headache. Why do people get drunk when you feel so sick afterwards?"

"The 'getting' part is the fun. And most people don't get drunk after only two drinks. Take my advice, avoid all alcohol in the future." And with that Tygra hung up and Lion-O did the same, wondering at what he might have said while his mind was on vacation.

"Hey Bengali? What does being grounded constitute at your house?" he asked. Bengali popped his head into the room and Snarf did the same.

"Usually it means no television or computer time. And no comics. But sometimes I can sweet-talk Sis into letting me read some comics when my homework is all done." He smiled shyly. "Really, don't worry about it. She'll cool off eventually. I'd do it again."

Lion-O watched him approach and shook his head. "How much did it cost you to get here?" Upon hearing the amount he went and found his wallet and repaid Bengali. Plus ten dollars. "I shouldn't say this, but thanks. It was really nice of you to come check on me. I mean…well, thanks. That was very kind of you."

Bengali protested the extra payment but Lion-O shook his head. Quiet for a moment, Bengali just said, "Well…friends do things like that, don't they?"

Lion-O tilted his head and Bengali blushed. "I've never had a best friend before, so…it's weird," Bengali murmured. "But you're still one of the nicest guys I've ever met, Lion-O. That's what friends are like, right?"

For the first time Lion-O realized that Bengali too had been referring to him by his first name. It made his heart warm, and suddenly he felt a little less sick, a little closer to home. "Sure Bengali. Friends are like that." A little awkwardly he gave Bengali a slight hug, only to be squashed a little by the cub's enthusiastic reciprocation. He sighed and said, "I'm glad you're around, Bengali. You remind me of home, and you're a good kid." He extricated himself from the hug and said, "Hey, how about a few episodes of Superman? Since I'm the reason you'll have to have withdrawal this week."

Bengali smiled. "Can I have pizza too?"

Lion-O blinked at the clock on the wall. "At seven-thirty in the morning?" He nodded in earnest. "…Sure. Why not? Just don't tell Pumyra."

* * *

><p>Pumyra was a little cool toward Lion-O for his voyage into the world of drinking, both on Saturday morning and then again on Monday when he arrived at work. He apologized to her several times and by the end of the day she had finally calmed down.<p>

"No harm done. The company's image remains impeccable. Just be more careful next time. I'm inclined to think we all have a limited number of miracles."

Lion-O didn't have much to say to that. But for most of the day he was more worried about Vultaire's first day. With good reason, unfortunately.

It took until three for him to head over to the research building, and he had barely stepped in the door when Tygra stalked toward him with an irritated face and nostrils flared. "Deal. With. The. Bird."

At least he wasn't sniping about the punch. Lion-O headed up to the lab with him and spotted Vultaire at a metal table set up in the middle of the room. The other researchers were bunched around the table and when they entered, Lion-O caught similar moods to Tygra's reflecting out of their eyes.

And, to his surprise, Bengali was over there as well. He looked least annoyed, just smiling when he saw Lion-O. Vultaire looked up and ruffled his feathers. "Mr. Rey. Just the cat I was wanting to see."

"Sorry it took me so long to get over here. I was preoccupied at the office," Lion-O said. He saw blueprints and plans on the table and wondered at them; it looked like a machine of some kind.

"Oh, don't worry; Mr. Tygra Rey has been entertaining me. His ideas about Thundrillium and energy are most _amusing_," Vultaire said archly, beak curling in a smirk. Tygra snorted and Lion-O saw his face redden.

"Okay then," Lion-O said hastily, stepping between the two. "So, what is this design? You've been working on Thundrillium, right?"

"Indeed." Vultaire was wearing a dark shirt, again with holes in the back for his wings, and black slacks. It was a little casual but it was all crisp angles and calculated, tailored lengths. "I have decided we need to start work on a generator, in order to harness and properly monitor the energy that may be produced by Thundrillium, depending on the stimuli. After all, it wouldn't be any good to get Thundrillium to react without being able to detect what it's putting out."

Lion-O listen to him talk about electrodes and possible effects magnetism would have, and wondered if Vultaire knew that Lion-O actually understood part of what he was talking about. He was no expert to be sure, but he knew the basic terminology Vultaire was using. The other researchers were looking at each other in annoyance, and Bengali was still staring at the blueprint. And Tygra was still looking like he'd sat on a cactus and was supposed to try to look happy about it.

Vultaire's feathers were suddenly in front of him and Lion-O nearly sneezed. "Anyway, I was thinking of starting on a very small prototype, just to sample a few grams of the element to various stimuli. Then we'll build a larger generator to test larger samples when we figure out what best affects it."

"Sure. That sounds logical." Lion-O didn't like the snobby way Vultaire spoke, and he was already suspicious. Mumm-Ra was a sneaky, dark individual, and he didn't have much reason to believe that Vultaire was any different. He was certainly irritating, if nothing else. "Do you mind if I look at the blueprint? I had a class or two about things like this, and I really find them fascinating."

Vultaire's beak curled like a placating sitter's. "Of course. I will discuss some of the duties the rest of team will have with my – pardon me, _our _experiment."

Lion-O resisted the urge to kick the arrogant bird as he passed. Truly, however annoying he was, Vultaire had created something fascinating here. The alloys were labeled and there were long lists of equations to show his calculations for how he'd decided to find the necessary amount of alloys and electrodes and a bunch of other things that were a little bit beyond his current level of comprehension. Bengali was still scouring the blueprints with narrowed eyes. However, while Lion-O was wondering about what a few of the symbols meant, the cub tugged his sleeve. "It's wrong."

Lion-O looked at him. "Huh?"

"That's wrong. Right there." Bengali pointed at the equation. "That formula would equal thirteen, not thirty. And he added over here when it says to subtract."

Lion-O didn't know how Bengali could possibly figure that. Lion-O was confused enough just looking at the page and blueprint. "How do you know how to read this?"

Bengali shrugged. "I've read some math books in the library. Numbers make sense to me. I understand this. And I know he's doing it wrong." He scanned the page with pursed lips, claw following the answers. "These…half of these are wrong."

Lion-O couldn't help but be a little skeptical. After all, Bengali was a twelve-year-old, bright enough but not a physicist. And how had the others missed these errors? They had trained in this sort of thing for years.

Even so, Bengali was not dishonest. And he wouldn't say something without a reason. Lion-O had been scoffed at too many times to do the same to a friend. So he – rather slowly – started looking through the problems Bengali indicated, hunting for errors. And to his confusion, they were there. Vultaire had made no less than sixteen errors in his calculations. "These would really mess up the prototype, wouldn't they?" Lion-O asked, a dark coil of suspicion forming in his mind.

"I don't know about that stuff. Just the math." Bengali blinked a few times and looked up at Lion-O. "How come nobody else saw the mistakes? They must be able to if I can."

"Bengali…what math books were you reading, exactly? Because this stuff is…pretty up there."

He shrugged. "I dunno. The covers were shiny and I thought maybe they'd be more fun than trying to read through English books without you to help me. I think one was tree-go-nometry. And the other one started with a 'c.'"

Lion-O felt a little weak in the knees. "Trigonometry and Calculus?"

Bengali's face brightened. "That's it! See, I get the numbers, but words are just hard. They were neat. Why can't we learn cool stuff like that in my grade?"

Rather than saying, "Because people have to study for years to get that stuff," Lion-O was interrupted by a cough from behind.

"Mr. Rey. Is there a problem?" Vultaire looked rigid, as if daring him to find fault with a work of perfection.

Lion-O narrowed his eyes. "A few of your equations are wrong."

Vultaire's feathery brows shot up and his pupils shrank in something like outrage. "Excuse me. But on whose authority do you base that?"

Lion-O cocked an eyebrow. "Well, I've had a few math classes. So has my friend. And we'd appreciate if you and the others would look these over." The other researchers exchanged glances and returned to the table. Tygra watched from the doorway.

"I think he's right, this should have been carried…"

"Yes, that's three-point-two, not three even…"

Murmurs like this built until Vultaire huffily clacked his beak and made them cringe. "Yes! Well, I suppose even the best of us make a few mistakes every now and then! Really, let's just correct them then."

Lion-O watched them fix each and every one, and noticed how Vultaire seemed irritated by it. Either he was very egotistical – well, all right, he was in any case – or he was disappointed in something. "Yeah. Let's be more careful.

Bengali did not seem to pick up on Lion-O's suspicion. "Mr. Rapax, please be more careful. If you mess up details like that, somebody might get hurt," he said earnestly, softly.

Vultaire clicked his beak and screeched indignantly. "I hardly think it's any of your business, boy! As if you understand any of these matters at all!"

Bengali's jaw tensed. "I understand the math. Even I know better than to not recheck my work!"

Vultaire snapped his beak and Bengali jumped back from the sharp click. "If you think you know better than an expert with several prestigious honors and degrees, then by all means, build one yourself you pasty freak!" Bengali's eyes grew wide with hurt and the others muttered darkly. Even Tygra gave Vultaire a filthier look than before.

And then Lion-O snarled, and all the people in the room fell silent. It was deep, dark, and he felt it roll through his chest and settle like silt in a river. "Nobody calls him that. _Ever_. Is that how you react when people point out your mistakes? A _professional _ought to behave better than that."

He looked over the blueprints and nodded at one of the researchers. "I'd like a copy of these blueprints, just to follow along and examine. If there are problems with this group, let me know." He turned a cold gaze onto Vultaire. "I hired you to satisfy Mumm-Ra's 'favor' and I'm really wishing I hadn't. Believe me, I'll ship you back to him saying it just didn't work out. He can get his money's worth out of you some other way."

Vultaire squawked as if offended and Lion-O ignored him. "Let's go Bengali. I don't want you around this guy. He sets a bad example."

Bengali nodded but his eyes were distant. "Can I have a copy too? Just to examine?"

"Sure. I'll run off an extra for you," Bengali left with Lion-O – and Tygra, who waved at Vultaire with a little smirk – not noticing Vultaire's sullen eyes following the two out the door.

* * *

><p>"Frigging wire and the frigging circuit…"<p>

Panthro's language got a little more seasoned as he continued moving metal aside. "This is the worst engine I've ever seen. They get ten person teams and a whole four weeks, and this is all they can come up with? I gave them all the material, and a blasted blueprint! A kid with Legos could do better!"

He shoved the piece aside. It was a mess anyway, and considering these were graduate students making these mistakes, Panthro felt an anger headache coming on. He'd graded two others and they had been fair, but this one alone was enough to make him look to more appealing things.

Which namely meant Thundrillium.

He'd been nonchalant in his e-mail to Lion-O thanking him for the sample, but in reality, Panthro was intrigued. Only four weeks and he had documented pages of notes about it, tested it under different temperatures and pressures, and it was just a quirky, amazing little element.

While it appeared to be a gemstone, it had a unique structure, repetitive like a crystal but easily broken down in heat. He hadn't yet figured out what energy made it glow – it didn't register as dangerously radioactive – but he was going to figure it out eventually. Its atomic structure was different from anything else he had even seen, and it was like having a toddler having a new toy that he got to take apart completely.

Half an hour of fiddling found him more entranced, but he reluctantly put the Thundrillium down to go examine the assignments again. He was bored with them but he had to get them graded as soon as possible. And the sooner he got done, the sooner he could leave it alone.

The next one actually worked. It had been put together with care and he scribbled, "Good work. Real effort evident on this one. Eighty-nine percent." It had a few errors, but nothing that affected performance.

The next one made his eyebrows rise. Because if someone had swallowed metal pieces, tried to make their intestines build an engine, and then puked it up, that was what it might look like. Panthro turned it over in his paw and decided to get his extra-thick goggles and gloves on for protection.

He cautiously pressed the lever designated as the "on" switch.

Big mistake. Sparks flew out the side of the knot of metal and he jumped back. The wires were in line to form a current, but the student hadn't had any idea how to limit the power flowing through, and-

Panthro swore. The electrical engine had sent a jolt onto his table holding the Thundrillium, apparently attracted to the crystal. He hit the switch again – it was at least not conducting electricity – and waited for the engine to die.

Stupid thing. He peered over the table, wondering about how to dispose of this particular piece of the Thundrillium sample if it was damaged. Some papers had been burnt by the shock, and he blew out several tiny flames before turning his attention to the Thundrillium. Then Panthro blinked.

The bit of Thundrillium was glowing bright, and even though he watched for a whole minute, the glare didn't fade. He looked at the meter on the wall – an electrical energy meter that he'd tinkered with to the point that it could monitor the energy in a room, important after the time he'd adjusted a generator to run at a higher energy level and it nearly blew the room up – and watched the needle jump and hold itself steady. Even though it had only been jolted by a little electricity, the crystal was suddenly registering as far above what the shock had been. And it stayed that way.

He stared at it for a while. The crystal remained the same way for an hour before its energy reading began to fall. And all he could say was, "Why is it the most interesting discoveries are always by accident?"

* * *

><p>A month passed. Lion-O heard nothing about his abysmal encounter with alcohol and was thankful for it. His guilty conscience made him call Cheetara and tell her what happened. He felt like a child calling his mother, but she put things in perspective as she always did. "It was an accident. Nobody got hurt, nobody got embarrassed. I know you're sorry about it, but I would just put it behind you. Don't feel bad." She paused and seemed to smile through the phone. "It says something about you that it only took two glasses. Sounds like you can't hold it very well."<p>

He laughed in spite of himself. "I guess. I'll stick with grape juice and sherbet punch from now on."

It was during those phone calls that he felt best, but there was always a bitterness underlying their words and laughter because he knew – and she knew – that the phone call would end and they'd have to say goodbye, and then the room would be quiet and lonely again, save for his faithful Snarf.

Valentine's day came and he sent her a card with a handwritten message, and arranged for one of the Petalar florists to deliver a dozen red roses to her. He wished he could have done something more personal like visit, but work wasn't like school; it didn't ebb and flow with exams and busywork. She loved them though, and sent him a picture of Kat and Kit sniffing the roses, and Jaga in a pink, heart-covered sweater behind them. Jaga looked deadpan, and Lion-O figured the kittens had gotten him another sweater.

The kittens missed him and informed him of the bizarre goings-on in their lives. "I'm playing the flute pretty good now. I can play three songs. And Kat has solved two sides of his Rubik's Cube. But he gets frustrated real easy with it." He wished he could be there to here the song in person, but he had to settle for her playing it nervously over the phone.

Panthro also sent him a message that was short and intriguing: "Got Thundrillium to react by shocking it. But after an hour the crystal stopped registering energy and it stopped glowing. Won't reactivate with more electricity. Will send more info if I figure anything out." It made Lion-O want to go shock some Thundrillium, but he couldn't do that without knowing a little more. And besides, it wouldn't do for Vultaire or the others to know about his "independent researcher" at the moment…

Bengali didn't come up to Pumyra's office at all during that month. It was strange without him there, but Pumyra said he was interested in watching them work on a generator. Apparently he didn't mess with Vultaire or his work, so things were fine in that department.

All was not sunshine and roses though. He received several complaints about Vultaire refusing to listen to other ideas and incorporate anyone else's thoughts. They were careful to check his work for errors now, and they were hard pressed to get him to fix the ones they found, although they were much rarer now.

Lion-O didn't trust him. Vultaire was with Mumm-Ra, and even though he didn't have much evidence, he still felt a dark intent about the old man and all his cohorts. If he had killed Dad, then anyone with Mumm-Ra wasn't trustworthy. And besides, he seemed to slow things up more than speed them on their way.

Maybe that was what he was there for. Lion-O made a mental note to keep an eye on him. He only wished Vultaire wasn't supposed to "help" with Thundrillium; they had a six month limit, and the vulture could seriously damage their chances to examine Thundrillium.

He and Tygra didn't talk much. He got the weird feeling that Tygra was avoiding him and uncomfortable about something. It was one of the more peaceful times he'd ever spent in Pantherle.

So the month passed. Bengali went over to the research lab every day. Lion-O dealt with his work and longed for the evenings when he could call Cheetara and listen to her talk.

"Lion-O?" He lifted his eyes from his computer – Cheetara had e-mailed him because Kat had solved another side of the cube – and saw Bengali standing in front of his desk. "Will you come over to the research lab? We want to show you something."

Shifting to his feet, Lion-O rubbed his temples and shut his eyes. They burned from being tired. "If Vultaire has thrown a fit or something, I really don't think I can handle it."

"Don't worry, it's not that. C'mon, it's really cool." Bengali took hold of his arm and dragged him out the door to the elevator, all the way out to the street and into the research building. He didn't say a word but nearly skipped with excitement. "Remember how Vultaire said I should make my own generator if I thought he couldn't do it?"

"Vaguely."

"Well…we've kind of been working on one."

Lion-O blinked once. And then did it again. "What?"

"It's only a blueprint right now," Bengali said, leading him into the lab. The physicists were gathered around the table and some of them greeted him. They had warmed to him considerably as of late. Apparently Vultaire was irritating enough that they had to side with someone, and they chose him. "We've got a plan for our own generator. Because just between us…I don't trust Vultaire." Bengali looked deeply guilty for this.

Lion-O only felt a little proud amusement. "Neither do I. So…you're working on another Thundrillium generator?" He approached the table and looked at the paper. "Wow."

It was a pristine, beautiful image. Every part was labeled, the equations were neatly written, and he couldn't help but grin as he looked at it; unlike Vultaire's complicated mess that slowed them down, this was good. It was simple, clear, and the equations had meaning and had obviously been check over. "Whose idea was this?"

Bengali shyly raised his paw, and one of the cats said, "He's the one. We're not basing ours off Vultaire's, but this might look a little bad in court if it's ever brought up…"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Even I can see they're totally different. Not to mention the math is better," Lion-O observed.

"That's Bengali as well. We've been working on the machine design for a few weeks and the materials, and he's been doing a lot of the conversions for us. This boy's math skills are…well, they're something," said the cat. He was a pleasant orange color and Bengali beamed, face pink.

Lion-O gave him a bemused look. "You did all that? You…get this kind of math?"

"Uh huh. I wish English were this easy, but numbers are my thing. Is…that weird?" Bengali seemed apprehensive, shy, and Lion-O gazed at the intricate creation on the paper. "Is there something wrong with me?"

The researchers laughed, a couple just shaking their heads.

Lion-O shook his head and looked at the cub with wonder. "Bengali…have you ever taken any tests to see just how good you are at math?"

"No. Teachers are always getting on me to show my work. They don't care if the answer is right, just if I write stuff down." He looked down at his feet and asked shamefully, "Am I in trouble?"

The machine was an amazing little idea, and looking its design over, Lion-O put his paws on Bengali's shoulders and the cub blinked at him in surprise. "Bengali…I think you need to take some tests to figure out just how much you know. Because frankly, this is the work of a literal _genius_. You guys have my permission to keep this hidden from Vultaire. When he gets back with the supplies, hide it. We'll show him where the real smarts are."

* * *

><p>Vultaire had paused for a cigarette on the side of the road when Mumm-Ra called. One box of alloy and tools were in the back seat of his sleek, neat car, and he'd decided they could wait long enough for a little nicotine. It was bloody cold this far northeast of Avista, and he hated all the cats. Dirty, hairy little…<p>

"Yes? Hello?" He took a long drag and had to cough a couple times.

"Vultaire. What progress have you made?"

He let out a low trill of annoyance. "Not nearly enough. The team is smarter than you thought; they keep catching my 'mistakes.' And I have to say, I don't think Lion-O trusts me."

"He wouldn't. He's got a good sense for finding deceivers and enemies. It makes this difficult." Mumm-Ra paused and then continued, "I've decided I might have to get rid of Tygra soon. Apparently Slithe thinks that when I claim Thunder Enterprises, he would cause more trouble than he's worth with the non-felines. And he's too cocky."

"Oh I believe it." Vultaire blew out a little more smoke. "He's as bigoted as they come. Even worse than me. Smart too. I wouldn't have a problem if he, ah, had an accident. The lizards wouldn't take as well to him as they would to Lion-O if you win him over."

"It would throw Lion-O and the company into disarray…I'd have the heir utterly at my whim. He'd be helpless. Broken, perhaps," Mumm-Ra mused. The sound of faint music in the background distracted Vultaire as he considered his next thought.

"Why not the cheetah? Cheetara? Lion-O is mad about her. I've heard several rumors…"

Mumm-Ra laughed. Really, openly cackled. "Because I want to cow him, not break him and remold him into a demon of revenge! Dear Mr. Rapax, if I take the last of his family he'll fall apart. But take the woman he loves…no, I've watched him too much to test him that much. I need a weakling. Give it time, keep slowing up the research. I'll deal with these issues at their proper time. At worst you'll have to destroy your generator. I'm paying you enough for that, aren't I?"

"I suppose," he replied. "I'll call you if anything else comes up. Keep me updated."

"Of course. Don't let me down, Vultaire." Mumm-Ra hung up and Vultaire tossed his cigarette out the window. Then he started the car again and continued driving, pondering the plans and whether or not Mumm-Ra was going to bump off the elder brother or not.

* * *

><p>1 – I don't think I actually used any references this time. Whattaya know?<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Me? Own ThunderCats? Hardly. Maybe someday, but not today. I would like that, actually.

We're getting there. I'm thinking a chapter and an epilogue after this one. I'm quite excited to share them, and I've looked forward to this for…I don't know, a year-and-a-half? Maybe. Something like that.

Anyway. I'm very tired and bid you all adieu until next chapter. The same warnings as always apply. I hope to finish the story within the next month or two. Again, might go back and edit, but I'm reasonably pleased for now. Oi, college and work…they sap your energy.

* * *

><p><em>"Black clouds are behind me,<em>

_I now can see ahead._

_Often I wonder why I try,_

_Hoping for an end._

_Sorrow weighs my shoulders down_

_And trouble haunts my mind._

_But I know the present will not last,_

_And tomorrow will be kinder."_

_Tomorrow Will Be Kinder, _The Secret Sisters

* * *

><p>"Bill, I'm telling you, this stone was glowing."<p>

Panthro allowed Bebo to handle the dim stone and examine it. "Is very shiny. Is Panthro collecting pretty rocks now?"

"No. That's Thundrillium. And it was glowing before. I've tried everything, but won't register any energy now. I kind of wanted your take on it, Bill," he said, taking a bite of his sandwich. Bebo took a little sliver of Candyfruit, opened the jaw hinge of his oral cavity, placed it in, and closed the hinge again. Eating was a strange chore for berbils, and Panthro wondered if biologists would ever truly figure out the extent of the physiology of the berbil. Strangely metallic, and yet they grew like animals…

Anyway. He snapped his attention back to Bill, who had taken the piece of Thundrillium and was looking it over. "Very strange. Did Panthro try shocking any other Thundrillium?"

"Yeah. The same thing happened. In fact, I powered an electric mower for two hours with it before it ran out. I rewired it so the Thundrillium attached to the battery when it needed charging, and the thing turned on. It was putting out electricity! C'mon, that's pretty bizarre for a piece as small as my pinkie claw!"

Grouchy, Panthro sliced Bebo's half of the Candyfruit into little pieces so Bebo didn't have to cut it himself. Bill gave him the piece of Thundrillium back. "Bill would need to work with Panthro. Maybe continuing electric current would make Thundrillium keep working for long time?"

Panthro considered this and took one bite of Candyfruit. Bebo waved his arms happily. "Huh…keep the current going? Maybe. Still, that'd kind of make Thundrillium a hassle, if you have to keep shocking it to make it work."

Bill shrugged. "Maybe can redirect Thundrillium current flow back into rock to keep going if make generator? Only need initial spark then. Show Bill stone and Bill will try to help. Bill is free on Friday."

"All right. Sounds good." Panthro pocketed the piece of Thundrillium and felt his mouth turn down at the corners even further. "Kinda funny. I wish Lion-O were here to talk to as well. Between the three of us, we'd have me, a berbil genius and the nutty kid with innovation. That's important you know."

Nodding, Bill sighed. "Panthro and berbils miss Nice Lion-O."

"You're not the only ones." Panthro looked over his shoulder and Bill waved. Jaga had come in with a list, and Bella had just rolled up to him.

"Hello old Jaga! Where pretty Cheetara?" Bebo tried to hop down from the counter but Panthro caught him and lowered him gently to the ground.

Jaga shook his head. "At home watching the kittens. She's not wanted to go out too much lately. As I said, several of us also miss Lion-O." He lowered his head to speak to Bella. "However, we have also missed the excellent food at this establishment. That much can be remedied though. May I place a carry-out order dear lady?"

Bella giggled and nodded. "Bella like old Jaga."

Bill crossed his arms. "Robear Bill talk fancy sometimes," he muttered. Bella took the order back into the kitchen and Jaga seated himself at the counter beside Panthro.

"How's that girlfriend of his?" Panthro asked. Jaga shook his head and seemed older suddenly, shoulders tired.

"She's a trooper. More concerned with making sure the kittens are happy than worrying about herself. But she misses him terribly, and I'm trying to figure out something to cheer her up." Jaga paused. "You were talking about Thundrillium?"

"Yeah. Lion-O sent me a sample." Panthro, at Bebo's prodding, took another bite of Candyfruit. "I've been messing with it for a while. Don't go spreading that around…although I don't think many people would care."

"He said he was working on a generator to utilize it in his last e-mail. Quite ambitious." Jaga gave him a look. "Might I ask you a question?"

"Huh? Sure."

"How often do you come here?"

Panthro blinked and cleared his throat. "Ah…well. A couple times a month, maybe…"

Bebo looked up at him innocently. "But Panthro come to see Bebo and Daddy two times a week now! Used to come not so often, but now come lots of times!" He hugged Panthro's arm and he felt his masculinity recoil under the blow.

Jaga noticed the discomfort and said, "Oh, there's nothing wrong with it. I was just asking because frankly, the kittens were quite taken with you. They grow fond of people and decided to glue themselves to certain persons sometimes. They wanted to know if I'd invite you over sometime so they could meet you when they weren't hyperactive. Particularly since you like the berbils and Lion-O and all."

Surprised by this, Panthro gave Bebo another piece of candy and said, "Uh…well…I ain't so good around little kids…Bebo's kinda the exception."

"Bebo want friend Panthro to make new friends," Bebo disagreed. "Panthro is lots of fun." Panthro grunted.

"You'll find they're quite unusual. It would be quite helpful if you would. I confess, I'm also looking for a way to distract them and Cheetara from missing Lion-O, and company might help." Jaga inclined his torso toward Bella as she approached with a bag filled with carefully stacked boxes. "Thank you dear lady."

He paid her and Panthro shrugged. "I guess. They really miss him that bad, do they?"

"Quite. It's hard to watch." Jaga sighed. "I simply thought you might benefit from a visit too."

Knowing what he meant, Panthro crossed his arms. "I don't miss him _that _bad," he muttered. Jaga's eyebrows rose and Panthro added, "I'll come over sometime. That psychology professor keeps pestering me about getting out of the house anyway."

Jaga seemed strangely knowing as he said, "They'll be excited. Feel free to drop by any evening."

He headed out and Bebo chirped joyfully, "Panthro is making friends like brain doctor said! Yay friends!"

"Eh." Panthro felt surly as he said, "Maybe sometime. I'm not the visiting kind."

* * *

><p>"You're <em>kidding<em>!"

"Nope. It's the truth, Zanny. We've broken ten million viewers on Saturday mornings. And that comes with an upgrade."

Lynxana looked around the room with something like wonder. "You are freaking _kidding _me! We've got a dressing room now?"

"And a new break room. And-" he pulled out two envelopes, "our first raise in two years."

Lynxana grabbed the envelope with her name on it and tore the edges off to slide the check out. Her eyes widened. "Dude! Silvestir, this is crazy!" She threw her arms around the black and white cat and released him, still in awe of the dressing room. There were mirrors and clean floors and counters, make-up kits and the whole nine yards in a swanky blue room.

"Hey, you going after that Rey kid really paid off." He smiled until he saw the unease on her face. "What's up?"

"Well…you're right. But the thing is, he knew enough to get us fired. I mean, he knew about that whole deal with the rehab center…if he hadn't made a deal, we'd be standing in the unemployment line right now," she admitted.

Silvestir shrugged. "Ah, c'mon, so he's a pushover. Any other guy, you'd have bowled him over by now."

Lynxana scoffed, crossing the room to sit in one of the chairs in front of a mirror. "You know as well as I do he's not a pushover. You were there when he gave us his ultimatum. You were about to wet yourself." He reddened and shrugged. "I dunno. I guess I'm just not used to feeling like somebody else got the upper paw. Like…we owe him."

Silvestir cocked his head. "Who are you and what have you done with Zanny?"

"Would you _quit_? I hate that nickname!" She aimed a kick at his tail and he flicked it out of the way. "I've been in a weird mood lately. All this success is totally hinged on that kid. He's the only reason we are where we are. Anyone else and we'd be down and out." Lynxana planted her chin in her palm and her tail whisked violently. "I hate owing favors. It's all him, not us."

Nudging her, Silvestir said, "I don't get why you're so bugged about him. _Is_ it because he reminds of that ex? Because seriously, he dumped you. You've got to let it go."

"That's not it! I guess I just feel like…" Lynxana trailed off. "Okay. We meet a lot of scumbags in our line of work. But…I don't get that vibe from Lion-O Rey. He just seems like a good kid that's got dealt a crappy paw. Maybe I'm going soft in my 'old age,'" she added sarcastically.

"'Boy next door' type. Give him long enough, he'll do something naughty or illicit. Everyone does," Silvestir said dismissively. "Hurry up, we've got to look over the new information he sent. Have an internal conflict later."

Lynxana got up and followed him out. "Yeah. I guess he'll end up doing something crazy," she said at last. "End up as bad and foul as anyone else."

And for the first time in several years, Lynxana wasn't quite so happy about it. Perhaps the interview was the problem; she'd gotten Lion-O to agree to one on their show just a couple days ago. And it still bothered her.

_"Exclusive tonight, we have Lion-O Rey on our show. It's pretty sporting of him to show up, isn't it? Let's give him a paw!" She clapped in a feminine fashion, beaming at the cameras and indicating the lion sitting near her. He didn't rest easily in the chair or grin like a star. He sat uncomfortably, legs uncrossed and back a little stiff. But he looked good in a suit with a red tie, smiling a little at the audience. "So, Mr. Rey. Your succession party was just a couple of weeks ago and other than you having a little bug, it all seemed to go swimmingly. Any thoughts about it?"_

_"I thought it went well. Everybody seemed to enjoy themselves and plenty of people have spoken well of it. I'm only sorry I had to leave a little early." He had to clear his throat because his voice was high and nervous at first._

_"Yes, the opinion was generally favorable. Especially among the non-feline community; tell me, were you aware that you had invited a higher percentage of lizards in particular than any other CEO to date, save perhaps Leo himself?" she asked. She grinned in her dark red lipstick, crossing her legs and knowing the camera would catch the darkness of her skirt and the whiteness of her blouse well in a certain position._

_At this Lion-O blinked. "Um. No. I mean, I guess that makes sense, but…I just invited people. People in business. It didn't really occur to me whether they were lizard or not."_

_"Oh? But you planned a new meal and everything. Even had a table for the kiddos." She indicated the screen behind them on the clean, vibrant wall, and they watched a picture or two of the children – lizards, cats, pups – gathered around their table. And there were even a couple of him helping some of the smaller ones get their plates. "Nothing like posing with kittens to improve popular opinion, right?" she asked teasingly._

_Lion-O looked at her and his face was suddenly set. It reminded Lynxana of when he'd told her to leave Cheetara alone. "I wasn't posing," he said quietly. "I didn't even know there were any cameras there at that point. And as for the new meal, I knew there would be different tastes present and I figured it would only be courteous to provide different choices. Whatever species attended."_

_A slight change was coming over him. He seemed more intent, as if he were putting more focus on her and didn't have any left to worry about being nervous. Lynxana found herself looking at his eyes and noted that they were pretty and bright, and seemed honest._

_She hadn't lied when she said she could tell sinners from saints by their eyes. And these were clearer than any she'd seen. Lynxana coughed. "Right. Well, anyway…there have been discussions about you and your relations with non-felines. Some say you're a closet activist for more recognized equality between the species. What do you say to that?"_

_It was a dangerous question, and if answered wrong – or even right – it could be destructive. But Lion-O just shook his head. "I don't know what you mean by that. If you mean I'm secretly running rallies and stuff, no. But if you mean that I think every person is equal regardless of their hide, then sure. A person is a person, and it's just that simple."_

_"Ah, but that's different from what a lot of lions have believed. In Sava-Na, there are a lot of people that maintain rather…opposing views." She tilted her head, intrigued by the change that continued to roll over Lion-O. He seemed less and less like a teenage boy and more like a man by the second, and he glanced at the camera._

_"I don't judge people by what some members of their family believe. I don't judge them by what their families have done, either. If anyone is looking for some ulterior motive to me being friendly with lizards, they can keep looking. But they're not going to find anything. My mother taught me that people are people, and that's what I believe. She raised me to treat everyone alike because we're all worth the same."_

_"But what about your father?" Lynxana asked, and even the audience seemed to freeze when Lion-O gave her a look._

_"My father raised me and my brother the best he could. I have taken a lot of good lessons from him," he said. And Lynxana moved on because she sensed a danger here._

_It was only after the television interview ended and the cameras were off that she leaned back in her chair and said, "Hon, everyone knows your daddy was a bigot. Just like your brother. Just like everyone else is. It isn't tarnishing his name to admit it."_

_Lion-O was watching the audience trail out but turned his attention to her. "Nobody's perfect."_

_"Ain't that the truth. But I'd advise you stop using the rose-colored glasses. People don't like a sap. Bad image."_

_"I'm not a sap. I meant what I said. Just because you've never met someone that was honest with you doesn't meant they aren't around." Lion-O got up. "Like those kids. I didn't know you were there with a photographer. I don't do things like that for audience approval."_

_Lynxana lifted her eyebrows. "Then why? You sure worked hard to get daddy's approval by going to Ome N. and all that. Why not this?"_

_His face reddened, but more from shame than anger. "Things like this don't get me any praise. In case you haven't noticed. I just do them. I tried to please Dad and it didn't work out. I've always hated putting on a show._

_This didn't satisfy Lynxana. "Yes, but _why_? I seriously want to know what motivates goody-goodies like you to do goody things. Why do what you do?"_

_Lion-O shrugged. "I can't answer that. Until you get the concept of just doing what's right because it's right, and being kind because you have the opportunity, I can't help you. And I doubt whether you want me to go into a sermon about second chances and forgiveness for sinners."_

_She tilted her head. "You're a staunch believer then?"_

_"Yeah. Mom was. Another good thing she gave me."_

_"No wonder you ended up with a prude." She stretched and they were on their own in the room when she poked his shoulder, getting up and pacing toward him. "It's just good for her you're willing to put up with her saintly ways. I've only ever had one boyfriend that didn't try to get some as early as he could."_

_"And that's the ex you're still hung up on years later?"_

_She stopped. Lion-O was giving her a look so strange that Lynxana's stomach curled. It wasn't angry this time but almost sad. "I feel sorry for you. You don't know the difference between love and lust."_

_And he meant it. There was a real sorrow in his face. He left after that and Lynxana found herself remembering a time when she did know the difference, and feeling sullen about the fact that the line had indeed blurred._

Lynxana had never met anyone quite like this. She had been turning over his weird comment and pity for a few days, but to buy into his honey-sweet act was not something she was accustomed to. There were always ulterior motives. There were always selfish reasons.

That was why it wasn't a big deal to trash these people in the media. A lot of the time they deserved it.

But she wasn't sure Lion-O did. And that was the problem.

* * *

><p>"Fourteen."<p>

He looked at the next one and was quiet for a moment. "Sixty-seven."

Then the next. "Five-point-nine."

Lion-O watched Bengali hammer through the math problems with wonder. Tygra had been the closest thing to a genius he'd ever met even though – technically – Tygra did not have the IQ required for the title. He was just talented and smart and knew how to use it. Even he had to read and try at things. Bengali just looked at the numbers and knew. Some of the problems took longer and some were beyond his knowledge, but he was scanning algebra and trigonometry alike and reading them like Lion-O would read a beloved novel.

The literature segment had not gone nearly as well. He'd sat there trying to read sentences out of _Dracula_ and it took several minutes for him to get through a few paragraphs. His face had been strained, embarrassed, and at last the test giver – Lion-O had called her in for just this purpose – had returned to the math questions. His science was passable and his social studies was abysmal. But when it came to math, Bengali was fantastic.

Pumyra seemed agitated. In fact, she was so bothered by the whole thing that Lion-O had told her to just wait with him and see how Bengali did because frankly she wasn't getting anything done at her desk. She kept pacing, tapping her arm, and at last she muttered, "Why do we have to do this again? This was your idea."

Lion-O watched her in confusion. "I told Bengali we could test him to see just how much math he knows, and it might be better in school for him if teachers can make some adjustments for him. He said okay. He's not happy in school right now and you know it."

"I know! I know…"

Pumyra sat down on the lobby bench with a thump. It was quiet in there today and Bengali sat with the teacher at a desk about five yards away. In conversation lulls it was possible to hear his soft replies. "I just think this is unnecessary. I've always known he was excellent at math. Ever since he was younger he would count things and add them up faster than I could. Heck, when I was his sitter he used to calculate how much I would earn at eight dollars an hour if I saved up sixty percent. He was only five then. He didn't even realize what he was doing."

Lion-O eyed her, wondering if she knew what she was saying or if she was just ranting. "And of course when I adopted him I tried to get him to open up at school, but he still hated it…what if she wants him to skip a grade? He can't handle higher courses in English yet, and what if the kids make fun of him? He takes things to heart."

"You adopted him?" Lion-O asked with some surprise. He couldn't help but think of the kittens; they had e-mailed him to say they'd met Panthro, and that while they thought he was cool, he seemed unnerved. "I thought he was your brother."

Pumyra's mouth stilled and she gave him an irritated look. "I didn't mean to say that. It's a family matter. Anyway…I still don't want him to get teased because of this, or get too much attention. He doesn't like it."

"I get that. But he could do so much with how smart he is. Plenty of brilliant people weren't so good at other subjects, but they excelled in their field." Lion-O looked down at his paws. "I guess kids might tease him if they found out. They tease about everything."

Arms rigid, Pumyra tapped her knees. "I didn't realize he was a genius," she admitted. "Just that he was smart. I suppose I'm just too protective sometimes."

_'Sometimes?' _he wondered. But there was no time to ask her anything else, for the tester – a pretty white cat with clear, pale blue eyes – stood up and indicated that Bengali should stay where he was. She approached them and Lion-O asked, "Well? How is his math?"

"Perfectly amazing," she said, voice like cotton. "If he gets a proper tutor, he could easily best any mathematician at sixteen. I'm more worried about his English skills. His reading is difficult, and this slows up his learning in other areas. I don't recommend skipping a grade because of it. But the boy's a mathematical genius, no question."

Bengali was sitting in his chair and Lion-O watched as he took his pencil and waggled it back and forth to give it the illusion of being a "rubber pencil," grinning enthusiastically when he succeeded. "So he should be in higher math classes but he needs extra help in other areas?"

"Yes. I'd recommend two tutors if possible, or one that can build his reading skills and then supplement his math classes in school with extra lessons." She paused. "It's a difficult situation, particularly for him. The educational system isn't exactly built for this kind of person. It will be a lot of extra work for him too."

Lion-O watched Bengali again and Pumyra seemed to tense. "A tutor like you're talking about would have to be an expert, probably a professor. That wouldn't be cheap." The white cat shook her head.

"Granted. I just don't think he could handle skipping grades in his other academic areas."

Lion-O rubbed the back of his neck. "Would there be any way to substitute an afterschool tutor's math lessons for a math class at school? Then he could have some reading instruction during the class time for math. If it would help him do better, I'll pay for the tutors."

Pumyra glanced at him. "Mr. Rey, that's all right. We don't accept charity."

The white cat looked between them and Lion-O could sense distress and frustration in Pumyra's posture. "Bengali's my friend. I don't want him to have a miserable time in school." He gestured to Bengali to call him over and the cub got up, shyly drawing close.

"I did pretty good, I think. So…what does this mean?" Bengali asked.

Pumyra flexed her claws as Lion-O said, "You're really good at math, and I was wondering if you'd like me to see if I could hire a special teacher to help you learn the big stuff. And maybe another one to strengthen your reading so you can progress in school even better."

Bengali fiddled with the button on his shirt – little black buttons on white fabric – and said thoughtfully, "I wouldn't mind that, I guess. What do you think Sis? Do you think I'm smart enough?"

Her hard face softened. "Of course you are. I just want you to be happy in school. Some of the kids might not be nice if you're taken out of math class."

He considered this and shrugged. "A lot of them don't like me now. I could try this, and if it doesn't work, could I go back to normal?"

"We'll have about a month's trial period and see if you like it, if that's what you want. It's your decision." Lion-O didn't know whether he'd be made fun of, but he had a gift. It seemed like a shame not to support that. "We'll talk with your principal and teachers if you want to try."

Bengali nodded. "I want to. Maybe this way I'll learn to read better. And then I can be an inventor when I'm older." Pumyra's brows creased, but she just nodded.

"If that's what you want." Even so, Lion-O could tell she was upset about something. Bengali seemed excited though, and that was what he was concerned about.

"Okay. Cool," Bengali said. And that was it. He seemed unaffected by this strangeness, and the fact that he was apparently a genius. Lion-O watched him wobble the pencil back and forth. "Did you know it looks like the pencil is made of rubber if you wave it a certain way?"

* * *

><p>Tygra was working at his desk, reviewing the results of the solar labs when Pumyra strode in. "I've got three letters here addressed to you. One is from a group of felines that were present at Lion-O succession celebration, this one is from someone from Tygus University, and this one is from your orthodontist." She put them on the desk and he looked through them. One was interested in a business deal, one was from a fraternity friend, and the orthodontist wanted to check his teeth because he'd had braces a few years ago and tended to avoid checkups whenever he could due to bad memories. They involved sore gums and the taste of latex and, when he was very young, a celery string stuck in the wires.<p>

Nothing good ever happened at the orthodontist's.

He put the envelopes aside, noticing that Pumyra was very angry. She had the tendency to flare her nostrils when in a mood, and right now she looked a little like a catallo ready to kick.

He debated it for a minute, but finally decided to say, "What's wrong? Where's Bengali? Usually he sticks to you like glue."

"With Mr. Rey. He offered to take Bengali home with him for the evening and help him with his English. I didn't want to say yes, but Bengali's…difficult to refuse."

_You're wrapped around his claw you mean, _Tygra thought. "Don't worry, those two get along fine. Why don't you do something other than fret about Bengali this evening? You were supposed to leave an hour ago."

"I know…I just wanted to finish a few things. And it's closer to the apartment here than at home. I'll just wait around here until Bengali's ready to be picked up if that's all right. My office needs organizing."

And yet she wasn't in it. Tygra watched her pace, looking around and checking her phone for a call. He asked again, "So what's wrong? I thought Bengali's test scores were great. Lion-O wouldn't shut up about how smart the kid is."

"Oh they were. They were phenomenal. I looked at the papers afterward and they were college level, easily." She seemed listless and irritated, leaning on the side of his desk. "But I don't know that I wanted him to get a special tutor or be taken out of math class."

"Why not?"

She gave him a look over her shoulder and he wondered why she didn't let her mane out of its clip more often. It looked better hanging loose around her shoulders. "I should think you would know. Didn't you ever get made fun of as a cub for being in 'smart' classes and because you were different?"

"No. Anytime anyone looked like they were going to start, I'd show them up. Make them feel inadequate. If it was sports, I practiced until I was better than them. If they got one hundred on a test, I got one hundred one. People tend to gather around that kind of ability." He shrugged and logged off the computer, pushing his chair back enough to cross his legs neatly. "I beat them so soundly that anyone that wanted to pick on me would have to face the wrath of my friends and supporters."

Pumyra's brows lifted. "Sounds like _you _were the bully. You didn't want to succeed to do well, you wanted to succeed and rub it in people's faces."

Tygra paused and considered this. He hadn't really thought of it that way before this. But to be frank, thinking back on a lot of what he'd done…it hadn't been just for the sake of succeeding, but for the sake of pushing his competition into the dirt. It was what he'd liked. What he still liked.

That was…unnerving.

She slouched a bit, looking worried, and the motion surprised him. It was such a far cry from her crisp, professional persona that it didn't look like the same woman for a moment. "Well, Bengali isn't like that. He wears his heart on his sleeves, and he's very gentle and humble. Not to mention…he's not got much self-confidence. Or a bullying perfectionist complex for that matter. If anyone makes fun of him, he'll take it to heart. And he's very modest."

"It'll help him get a little tougher then. Lion-O ended up okay, and he was made fun of for everything from his cartoon obsession to his birthmark."

Pumyra cocked her head. "Birthmark?"

Tygra nodded. "Yeah, he's got this one spot where his fur is practically blond because there's a birth mark right under it. It's below the small of his back, right on his-"

"Too much information." Pumyra's voice was flat.

Tygra examined his claws. "Yes, well, you can imagine he was made fun of in the locker rooms when he had to shower. And that's not even scratching the surface. He didn't trip through puberty, he crashed through it. If he can make it through being made fun of all the time, Bengali can survive a little while."

Blinking, Pumyra asked, "You were popular in school?" When he nodded she said, "Then who dared pick on Lion-O since he was your brother?"

Tygra paused and glanced down, wondering that himself. "I don't know. I guess I never said anything to back him up when we were younger." He felt an uncomfortable thickness in his chest then, and it took a second to recognize guilt. "Going to call me an awful person?"

"It's in the past. Besides, you might 'fire me,'" she said sarcastically.

"Empty threat. Seriously, don't worry so much. There's no way Bengali will get picked on as much as Lion-O. He'll be all right. No reason to be held back by everyone else when you're smarter than they are."

"He's only smarter in math. But I suppose it's true that I want him to do his best." She did not seem overly cheered.

"So what else is wrong? We've established this is best for the kid," Tygra said. Pumyra's claws rapped against the desk and she paced rigidly.

"Maybe. But if such tutors are expensive, I'll feel as if I owe Thunder Enterprises even more. And I'd rather not owe more than I can repay."

He chewed on this mentally. "You do quite a bit around here. The whole company has benefitted from your work." But her discomfort suddenly made sense. In a way, Pumyra was similar to himself in that she didn't want to receive what she hadn't earned. And her blunt honesty was somehow…refreshing.

_Then again, how much has she done behind the scenes for all of us?_

Tygra shrugged. "Just think of it as payment and investment if you must. You've done good work for Dad and for us, and Bengali's helping a lot with that generator thing. Maybe one day he'll end up working here. It's hardly an act of charity; we can't hire a kid that young, so extra schooling to help him is…kind of a loophole that allows us to provide a benefit for his help."

Pumyra paused and he could see the wheels turning as she chewed her lip. "I…suppose you're right. I didn't think of it that way."

He smirked. "You're welcome."

She quirked an eyebrow. "I don't recall thanking you."

"Even so." He checked his watch with a flick of his wrist. "Seriously, get out of here. Go do something fun. Shop or whatever."

"I loathe shopping with no purchase in mind." She put her chin in her paw. "I might go to the gym. Hit something. That makes me feel better."

"Should Lion-O be concerned for his safety?" Tygra asked.

"Oh no. Not if he remembers not to let Bengali have caffeine after six. Are you leaving soon, Mr. Rey?" Pumyra watched him get up and stretch.

"Probably. Actually, I haven't been to the gym in a couple of weeks," he mused. "That's not a bad idea." He gave himself a once over and decided that, while still in shape, he had to get back into his habit of hitting the gym more often. Pumyra glanced at him, eyes following the contour of his back with mild interest. "Do you need a ride there?"

Pumyra lifted her gaze. "No thank you. I drove."

"The gym is in the opposite direction of your home. You have to drive further than I do. Come on, I could use a sparring partner," he said. "If you know any martial arts, we can use one of the wrestling mats as an arena. I'll drop you off back here so you don't waste gas." Pumyra's mouth twisted in amusement.

"You want to fight a girl?" He smirked.

"I'll go easy on you."

"Ooh, how very nice," she said, rolling her eyes. "Very well, I suppose I'll take you up on that offer if you know how to box." Surprised by this, Tygra agreed

That evening he discovered two things. First was that, in spite of the fact that she was rather unpleasantly tough and barbed, Pumyra had nice legs. She wore shorts and a tank top when exercising, and the shorts showed off her calves.

The second was that she could put a hurting on him in a way that was probably going to ache for three days. It turned out that her father had been a military man and if he knew how to do one thing, it was fight.

* * *

><p>"Cheetara! Come here! Hurry up!"<p>

She nearly dropped the froog and it protested with a croak. Dumping it gently into its tank and grimacing as she stripped off her slimy gloves, Cheetara threw them in the plastic bin and washed her paws, dashing into the sitting room without drying them. "What is it? Did you hurt yourself Kit?"

"No! Look at the T.V. Cheetara!" She pointed excitedly and Cheetara felt a faint burst of annoyance for being made to worry by her screaming. But when she saw the screen the annoyance faded completely.

Lion-O was on the screen. So was Lynxana, in a skirt so short that Cheetara was afraid she might see the woman's underwear if she shifted wrong. But Lion-O looked handsome in a suit and tie, fur neat and face set. The lights hit him well and Cheetara found her breath gone for a second; he was saying something about how "people were people," and it was so good to hear his voice when it wasn't distorted by the crackle of the phone.

"It's Lion-O!" Kat had come in and grabbed her arm excitedly. "Wow…he looks like a boss, doesn't he?"

She nodded. Jaga drew up behind them – she knew because she smelled his mug of tea – and the four just watched him and listened to the interview play.

"…And here is Mr. Rey being a pal to the kittens. For the first time kids had their own table. Sweet sight isn't it?" The picture showed Lion-O helping two small cubs get plates and his face seemed pleasant, smiling. Cheetara felt Kit wiggle.

"Man…I wish we coulda gone. Stupid news lady," she mumbled. "It's no fair that she gets to see him."

Cheetara just stroked Kit's mane. "He looks nice in a suit, doesn't he?"

"Uh huh. Cute." Kit grinned and elbowed her. "I'll bet he'd wear one around here if you asked him to."

Lynxana and Lion-O's talk ended and a commercial came on. Staring at the screen as if she could will Lion-O back onto it, Cheetara sighed. "At least he looks like he's doing all right. I worry about him. Tygra moved out of the apartment, and now it's only Snarf with Lion-O when he goes home."

"Why did Tygra move out?" Kat asked, moving from her side to the sofa. Lion-O hadn't told her all the reasoning – though she'd inferred a good deal from what he had mentioned – and Cheetara just shook her head.

"I think they both need some space from each other. Sometimes siblings are like that." Kat and Kit exchanged glances at this foreign concept and Jaga eyed her knowingly. "Thanks for telling us Kit."

Frowning, Kit put her paws on her hips. "I think you oughta call him. He's trying to call more, but he gets busy."

"I don't want to bother him if he has work to do," Cheetara disagreed.

"But Lion-O _likes _it when you interrupt him. C'mon…just call him. Please? Me and Kat won't even bother you; you can talk to him all yourself this time." Kit stuck out her lower lip and mewled. "Please?"

Cheetara sighed. "In a bit. When it's evening and he's most likely off work."

She returned to the froog and tried to coax it out from under the little log in its tank so she could finish giving it some medication, barely noticing as it croaked and wiggled in her gloved fingers. It was nice to see Lion-O, but for a minute she'd almost managed to worry about work more than him, only to be yanked right back. She sighed.

"Kat, Kit? Not to be a downer, but have you two cleaned your room? I told you that Mr. Fides is coming over, didn't I?" she called. A couple of indistinct voices told her their room was still a mess, and she finally succeeded in getting the froog to down its medication. "That'll put the spring back in your step," she murmured. Then she took off her gloves again, stopped by the bathroom to wash her paws, and ended up in the kittens' room with both of them, picking up toys with them.

"Sorry Cheetara. I just got real excited when I saw Lion-O on the T.V." Kit was abashed but Cheetara just shook her head.

"I understand. And I don't expect him to tour the house; I just want it clean in case."

Cheetara had been surprised when Panthro had actually agreed to visit. Jaga had said the cat hadn't looked too open to the idea, but perhaps he was really softhearted deep down as Lion-O said. Then again, Jaga had influence on many without really knowing it. Or maybe Panthro missed Lion-O too and was looking for distraction.

She pushed it out of her mind. All that mattered was that there was a guest coming over and she hoped the kittens behaved themselves. "Remember, no mentioning the fact that you're not legally adopted. I don't think it'll come up, and frankly, I don't think he'd care. But I'd rather keep that quiet."

"We got it. But I think you're right. Panthro doesn't seem like he'd care. I like him. He was real nice to Bebo last time we saw him." Kit tugged at the hem of her skirt and jumped when she heard the doorbell. "He's here! Cool!" She walked with Cheetara to answer the door, pouting when Jaga beat them there. The older cat paused before the door, straightening his black sweater.

"Please don't inform him about anything that might particularly embarrass Lion-O or anyone else. It's generally polite to let someone reveal that sort of thing personally," Jaga said.

Kat bounced in behind them. "Y'mean like the time you took too much allergy medicine and put on Cheetara's sweater and fell asleep in the bathroom?"

Jaga bristled. "Really now, it was one time…! I hardly make a habit of such things. Can't we just forget that ever happened?"

The kittens giggled and Cheetara's lips parted in a sly grin. "Forget what?" He rolled his eyes and answered the door.

Panthro looked a little awkward standing in their entryway. He had jeans and a button-up blue shirt on, fairly informal, but his face plainly said, "I'd rather be facing a CEO and government official than be here because kids scare me." He glanced at the kittens who waved, and lifted a paw. "Er…hi."

"Hi! Lion-O always told us you were a good teacher and that you liked berbils, and we wanted to talk to you when we weren't totally nuts, so we begged Jaga to invite you over!" Kit said all this quickly, but Panthro just scratched his head. "So…what made ya decide to come over?"

Jaga herded him in and he muttered, "Eh…Lion-O asked me to come check on you guys in his last e-mail. He knew I'd met you somehow…"

Cheetara caught a glimpse of the kittens smiling at each other with curled lips. "So I figured I'd up sticks and come visit. Jaga's been filling up my inbox with invites," he added, and Jaga nodded slightly.

"Persistence is often rewarded I find. Besides, I was fascinated by a few of Lion-O's engineering textbooks, and I'd quite like to learn a little more about them…"

In truth, Cheetara wasn't exactly sure why it had felt so important to get Panthro to visit. He seemed tough and distant, although nice enough in his own way, but even she wanted to have him over. Was it because he was connected to Lion-O? That wasn't the only reason, although it was a big one.

They just felt something. The kittens did, that is. They had a peculiar sense of people, able to figure out who was nice and who wasn't. And for some reason they liked Panthro. And Lion-O had as well.

Kat chattered at him all through dinner about whether or not he made robots. Panthro just sat there like a tied wire that was about to snap, nervously replying in short sentences. He hadn't been kidding when he said children were out of his depth. But Kat and Kit just took it all in stride and let Jaga chat with him about how Ome N. was changing and what he thought of the students. To this he took well, actually able to discuss the matter without being unnerved.

Cheetara was torn between wanting to mention Lion-O and not wanting to. She didn't want to seem clingy and upset, but at the same time Panthro had been in contact with Lion-O because of Thundrillium. Lion-O didn't mention business very much because he didn't want the kittens to know about any problems, so this left her mostly out of the loop. And she worried.

Dinner was pasta with pieces of beef in the cheese sauce with a salad on the side. It was funny to watch Panthro fiddle with his salad fork; Cheetara imagined he didn't eat much other than "manly" foods by the way he favored the meat in the pasta. "So…has the kid been calling you guys? I feel like he's worried people are bothering you. I think he wanted me to check it out around here because I've seen the press before."

Cheetara nodded. "He mentioned that you got rid of them once. Thank you." She smiled faintly. "Did you really come over because he asked you to check on us?"

He shrugged. "You're nice folks, Lion-O wanted me to…he sent me some Thundrillium and I owe him a favor. So I felt obligated."

"Lion-O sent you Thundrillium? What's it look like?" Kit asked.

"Pink. And shiny. And…glow-y." Panthro paused and gave the kittens an uneasy look. "I don't have any on me, so don't ask."

"Aw," Kat pouted. "Whiskers. I wanted to see some." He perked up. "Hey, can you bring some over whenever you visit again?"

"Kiddo, this is one-time thing. I'm not a very sociable person," he muttered. Kit stuck out her lower lip.

"Aren't you having fun?" At her reproachful tone Panthro's eyebrows lowered and he shifted.

"Look, you're cute kids. But I'm a sour old geezer. I know you miss Lion-O, but I'm no replacement for him."

Kat's ears drooped. "We're not trying to replace him. We just thought maybe you'd like us 'cause you liked him too," he mumbled.

Panthro looked a little abashed but Cheetara intervened. "What I think he's trying to say is that he's not as comfortable around kittens as Lion-O was, and he's not sure you'd have as much fun with him as you did with Lion-O," Cheetara explained. "And he doesn't want you guys to be disappointed." Panthro looked relieved when the kittens perked up again.

"Oh. But you're a teacher. I thought you'd see kids all the time."

"For adults," Panthro corrected. "It's mainly adults that come to college."

"I guess. But me and Kat are real smart for our age. And you hang out with Bebo. He's funny."

Panthro shrugged a shoulder. "Yeah. He's a card. But I've known him since he was born."

"Really? When was that?" Kit asked, leaning in and swishing her tail with interest.

"Oh, about four years ago…let's see, I think it was last year I helped fix his elbow…"

Cheetara watched in wonder as Kat and Kit worked Panthro into a full on conversation, chatting with him like two little adults. She met Jaga's amused eyes and shook her head. It seemed that Panthro, whether he liked it or not, was being drawn into the group of "nice people" as the kittens called them.

They were something else. Cheetara shook her head and took another bite. If they'd had Lion-O with them – and Tygra and Snarf too – it would have been a perfect evening. But to have someone new with them – someone as fond of Lion-O as they – was pleasant, and she would take it and settle for calling Lion-O later.

* * *

><p>Over the next month things didn't change too much.<p>

The tutor was hired and Bengali said that it was nice to get out of math class to get help on his English and literature. And the math tutor didn't make him write every single step, only important ones. "No more rewriting the equation when I add two," Bengali said happily. "It's not boring now. I get to graph and everything!"

This was good news at least. Bengali being happy was pretty much the biggest perk for the while. Because Vultaire was still annoying, work was moving desperately slow, Lion-O couldn't see Cheetara on her birthday, and Snarf was depressed and lonely at home when Lion-O worked late.

Lion-O didn't trust Vultaire at all by this point, but he was always cordial to him. Tygra frankly refused to even look at the bird which meant Lion-O was the only one that could put up with the complaints Vultaire raised. It helped to know that the team was working on their own prototype with Bengali, but it was frustrating that they had to go so slowly on the "official" machine. But on evenings when Vultaire left, Lion-O sometimes brought Snarf to the building with him and helped the team work on their secret project, feeling a little excited by the idea that it was something he could be sure Mumm-Ra didn't know about.

"Why don't you just ship him back to Mumm-Ra?" one of the physicists asked. "He's slowing us down on purpose I think."

"Because image is everything. And like it or not, I owed Mumm-Ra a favor." Lion-O was grim about it, but the recent interview with Lynxana assured him that Mumm-Ra was viewed well by the public, and to insult him would be hazardous. At any rate, he was content for the official generator's progress to lag if it meant they could work on their other project in peace. He'd never been very deceptive, but Lion-O found that it was easier than expected to "forget to mention" the generator to Vultaire.

Panthro had sent him an e-mail about Thundrillium recently, and Lion-O had been unable to curb his curiosity; he'd used a machine to shock a very small piece of Thundrillium. Taking Panthro's notes into account he shocked it repeatedly throughout the night and was intrigued to find that it kept glowing all through the night, and he wished he could monitor the energy better and utilize it.

Then again, that's what the generator was for.

Lion-O found Bengali loved working on the machine and learning. He often found time to sneak over to the research building to oversee things and slip notes about ideas to Bengali, and therefore his researchers. Vultaire was none the wiser, fiddling with his little machine. Lion-O tried to get that one in shape for the sake of inspection, in case any government officials ever came to check on their progress, but it was difficult to balance everything he was trying to do. Work was a game of getting things done on time and continuing to push his plans forward.

Tygra was acting weird lately. He tended not to talk to Lion-O much anymore, which was strangely all right. He was quite tolerable when he wasn't sniping. It left Lion-O plenty of time to worry about the company and the employees and keeping Palustri and Vultaire happy. This did put a strain on his communication with Cheetara and the rest of the Cleras. Cheetara preferred telephone conversation, so he tried to call her as often as he could, but this was difficult. He was wiped out every day he went home after meeting demands and complaints and working several extra hours on the machinery. All he could do was call Cheetara, and sometimes he started falling asleep even as he tried to talk to her. He was upset by this, but exhaustion was common now for him. She understood, but he knew she deserved better from him.

Something would have to give. He was playing too many parts, addressing too many demands. The media seemed more apt to criticize lately than anything, calling him reckless and juvenile, and Lion-O often felt they were right.

But there was nothing to be done.

* * *

><p>"Very nice. Much better than that ridiculous thing we've got with Vultaire. Oh, that wire goes here." The cat took the tendril from him and plugged it in. "Right. So you said it has to be shocked every two hours to keep up an output?"<p>

"That's what both I and my confidant have found. So the current would have to shock it to keep up an energy output for longer than two hours. I still don't know how much it can register, which is why we need to finish this as soon as possible. Otherwise there'll be no telling if it can power a blender or a country"

"Granted." The cat was adjusting a few things and Lion-O observed the machine with pride. It was about three feet long and wide, and the plans were for it to end up being about four feet tall. It was to be a prototype, a monitor and harnesser of electrical energy. It would take probably all of their six months to finish it but there was nothing to be done about that other than work overtime to keep progress going.

The sound of the door opening and shutting made Lion-O stiffen and jolt upwards. But he relaxed after seeing the familiar white fur and black stripes; Bengali was carrying his backpack and coming toward them. Lion-O had ordered the employees in the lobby of the research building to send a message up if Vultaire or anyone else showed up, but it was still a relief when Bengali sat down on the floor beside them. "Hey. How was school?" he asked. Bengali shrugged and stared down at the blueprints. This in itself was strange, as Bengali usually began to babble enthusiastically about his day. "Did you learn anything?"

Bengali nodded and kept his head down. Lion-O squinted at him. "What's the matter? Don't you want to talk about them?"

The cub shook his head and wordlessly seemed to focus harder on the pages. Lion-O caught his arm and said, "Hey, what's up?" Bengali blinked and to Lion-O's chagrin, his eyes were puffy and red. He sniffed. "Bengali, what's wrong?"

Bengali swallowed which seemed to help his eyes dry. And he put his backpack aside, shuffling a little closer to Lion-O. Sensing a need for a private chat, the other worker slipped away to join the group on the other side of the room. They were trying to make sense of Vultaire's convoluted notes. "Y'know how I have to take different classes now because I'm seeing my tutors?" he asked softly. His voice was raspier than ever.

Lion-O nodded. "Look, if they're too hard I'll tell them to lighten up. Or we can make things normal again, it's still just a test period-"

"No, no…I like the classes. And the tutor on Saturdays really helps me too. I love math class now, and I'm already a better reader. But…everybody in my old math class at school said I dropped out of it because I'm retarded and I can't add. They already call me slow because I can't read very fast."

Lion-O stared at him. "…_What?_"

Bengali wiped his eyes. "I know I should ignore them, but I just can't. They're mean, and I don't like being called retarded. I don't like making fun of people just because they might not learn as fast."

Lion-O was at a loss for words. He'd been made fun of in school, but to made fun of because the other kids didn't realize just how brilliant Bengali was? "Bengali…that just shows how stupid they are. Because you're a hundred times better at math than any of them will ever be. Just because you're not a fast reader doesn't mean you're not smart. And that's a classless word. 'Retarded.'" He threw down the wrench he was holding and stood up. "Which kids are these, anyway? I think I'll call the principal and report this."

"No! Lion-O, it won't do anything! They'll still think I'm dumb and they'll still pick on me, only they'll be mad because they got in trouble!" Bengali jumped up and tugged on his arm. "It doesn't matter, I just…I dunno, I was upset. But it doesn't matter."

Lion-O glared at him. "Bengali, I was picked on from sixth grade on. I was called Shorty, Gingersnap, Firecracker, and a bunch of other names. I've gotten swirlies, rubber band burns and had my lunch stolen. I've been publicly humiliated by tripping and upending a snack table. I was harassed on a daily basis. And you know what? I told my dad. You know what he did? _Nothing_. He just told me to suck it up and make sure I didn't get into any trouble. I know how bad it can get. There is no way I'm letting you put up with this stupidity like I did. These bullies aren't getting away with this. They're going to find out there are consequences for their actions."

Realizing his voice had been rising, Lion-O cleared his throat, waiting for the echo to fade from the room. "Anyway. Don't worry about this." Bengali blinked when Lion-O put a paw on his shoulder. "I'll handle it."

"Ah…Mr. Rey. Not to interrupt, but we just got a call. Palustri's headed up with Concolo. Did you want to hide the you-know-what?" Lion-O immediately glanced at the door. He straightened his shirt and pulled on his suit jacket.

"Okay, out in the main room. Lock the door behind us so they can't peek in here without a key. And make sure all the plans in there are Vultaire's." He headed out to the main lab, cringing at the sight of Vultaire's generator, and looking as calm as possible when the door swung open only a second after he heard the lock behind him click.

"Mr. Rey. I'm afraid we have some bad news," Concolo said, nodding respectfully as he followed Palustri at a slower, gentler stride. The younger cat seemed to smirk at something. Lion-O shut his eyes and prayed for strength; he was in a bad mood already.

"According to a letter we just received, due to some complaints from members of the city that live within the vicinity of this building, our research time is being cut to three months instead of six," Palustri announced, handing Lion-O a crisp white page. Lion-O scanned it, brows knitting with disbelief.

"They can do that? Go back on their word so easily?" he asked. His hackles rose and his temper flared a little more.

"It's the government," Concolo muttered. A little louder he said, "Apparently they dislike the private sector fiddling with such an obscure element, and because it is uncertain as to whether Thundrillium releases toxic radiation-"

"It doesn't!" Lion-O snapped, biting his tongue when Palustri scowled at him.

"-Regardless, they have cut the permits' validation by half. We…have a little over thirty days to complete the generator and reveal our next steps for utilization. Then we have to return any unused samples if our progress is found unsatisfactory." Concolo peered at the "official" generator and Lion-O gave it a look himself.

It looked horrible really, wire exposed and several places joined so haphazardly that it looked more like a science experiment than anything else. Bengali shifted behind him and growled. "That's not fair. That's like promising you have a week to do a project and then saying you only three days after two!"

"I'm afraid that's the way the real world works, squirt." Palustri prowled around the generator, giving it a distasteful examination. "Nothing a few 'geniuses' can't figure out, I'm sure," he said with the sweetness of aspartame. "We wanted to report it to you in person. Don't shoot the messenger."

Concolo's low voice moved lower. "Palustri. I should warn you that you sound a little irreverent." The other paused in his circling of the generator and cleared his throat. Lion-O handed him the letter and broodingly stared at the machine.

"Fine. Thanks. We'll…make do. What about the solar studies?"

Concolo shook his head. "No, it's all fine. Nothing dangerous so we can continue researching those as we please."

_Of course. Right._ Lion-O raked his fingers through his mane. "Thanks Concolo. I'll…I'll see what I can do. Thank you for telling me."

Palustri snorted. "I get no thanks?"

Lion-O threw him a filthy glance. "You can go now. Before I lose my temper would be best."

Funnily enough it was Palustri that hurried out the door first, Conoclo striding after him. It was only after the door shut that Lion-O hissed, clamming up for a second. Bengali helpfully offered him his backpack and Lion-O buried his face in it.

"_Whis-keeeeeers!_" It felt good to scream at first. But finally his head started to ache and he lifted his mouth from the rough fabric and sighed, giving it back to Bengali. "If it's not one thing it's another," he said at last, noting that the researchers were muttering amongst themselves. Bengali peeped over the top of his backpack at him as he paced, claws twitching over his mane in frustration. "So we've got…er, thirty-three days to get one of these things up and running. It's got to show enough promise to get the permits back so we can make a real generator. And we have to put up with Vultaire, and keep the public interested, and I've got to make the stockholders happy enough with their dividends to keep them around…and the whole rest of the company needs running. Fantastic."

He sat down on the ground. "I think…I need to head out. Clear my head." Bengali shuffled his feet and he added, "Hey, if you want to come over you can."

Bengali shook his head. "No. I want to work on the generator. But I'll see you downstairs."

"We'll do what we can, Mr. Rey," one of the cats called. "But Vultaire's working this week. Would you like one of us to schedule time after his shift to work on our generator?"

"Yeah. That'd be great." Bengali followed him out and Lion-O just nursed the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lose my temper," he told the cub.

Bengali just carried his backpack in his paw. "You have to worry about real problems. I was whining about a couple of bullies," he said thoughtfully.

"Hey, bullies _are _problems. And they aren't going to get away with what they're doing. Have you told Pumyra about them?"

Bengali shook his head vigorously. "Nope. I don't want her to worry or get mad. She's got enough to deal with. So do you."

Lion-O sighed and paused in the hall to give Bengali a one-armed hug. "Don't let them get you down okay? I'll figure out some way to get them to stop. It might take time is all." Bengali hugged back with gusto, cutting off his last word a bit. Bengali was even more of a hugger than the kittens, and Lion-O again felt that protective roar in his heart. He had defended the Cleras and he would find a way of protecting Bengali. Somehow.

* * *

><p>Snarf got to pick dinner that night since Lion-O had felt neglectful the past few weeks. With a happy flick of his tail, Snarf had entered the favorites list on Lion-O's computer at home and selected a chili recipe. Lion-O patted Snarf's back wearily and said, "Sounds like the berbil recipe. You surf the web while I'm gone?"<p>

"Snar-Snarf." "Sometimes, if there's nothing on television and I get tired of reading and walking around the apartment."

Lion-O was a passable cook at this point and had mixed up the chili pasta, pleasing Snarf to no end. And, since he had left early enough that he wasn't completely exhausted, Lion-O took the opportunity to dial a familiar number.

"Hello?"

He sighed. "You have no idea how good it feels to hear you."

"Lion-O! Hey! Did you get away from the office early?" Cheetara sounded so happy that his toes curled instinctively as he sat on the couch, files beside him and forgotten for a while.

"Yeah. More from bad news than good, but it's nice to get out of there." He revealed to her the state of the generator, the cutting of the permit's time and all the rest. He even went into Bengali's bullying. In turn she told him about what Panthro was up to, the fact that the kittens were getting attached to the panther, and the resulting amusement. The veterinary clinic was fine but things were slow, and they all still missed him terribly. It felt good to talk to each other so long, and he sighed.

"So…I've said this already but happy birthday. The big two-one."

Cheetara laughed. "Yep. And I feel the same way I always have."

Lion-O just lay there on the couch, Snarf sitting on his stomach and purring. "I like hearing you laugh," he said. He imagined her smile and shut his eyes. "So…what were you wanting for your birthday? I wanted to send a present, but I wasn't sure what you might want…and it's been so hectic."

"Don't worry, I get it. I've still got the roses you sent. I think I'm going to press a couple of them in a book to dry them. Something to look back on. And I don't really want anything for my birthday. Well, nothing material anyway. Things like world peace aren't exactly feasible for one person."

Lion-O grinned. "I guess not. But isn't there anything? Maybe you need something for the clinic? Come on, anything."

"No, really…I just can't think of anything." She was quiet for a second. "This is going to sound so childish. But…maybe if you could visit for just a couple days, that would be the only thing I have any interest in."

He opened his eyes, quietly considering this. The corners of his eyes burned. "I really want to. Really. But I'm afraid to leave Vultaire here with the generator. I just don't trust him. And they cut our research time to three months instead of six, and…agh, people are crazy. Did I tell you what happened with my Dad's cousin, Sinhal?"

"No. What's wrong?"

"Long story short, he told me there were some lionesses about my age he wanted me to meet and consider marrying because they want me to sire a kid as soon as possible. Oh, and there's a fifteen-year-old lioness too, but that's frowned upon in Thundera, so apparently I shouldn't go that route," he added sarcastically.

"That's…crazy. How weird. Sava-Na isn't all like that, is it?" she asked, bewildered.

"No. No…not even all the Reys are quite like that anymore. But the only ones that come here are the lunatics that want to continue the line a certain way." Lion-O sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you. Or go off on a tangent. It just made me mad."

"I understand. You have to deal with a lot of strange people." She seemed a little reserved and Lion-O tried to figure out why.

"You know…I don't care what he thinks, right? I love you, and I'm going to keep dating you even if he throws a royal fit. He can get over it."

"I know." Lion-O pondered her request and then sat up.

"Hey…what if I brought you guys here for a week? You can find temporary help to take care of the clinic, can't you?"

"Oh, I don't know Lion-O. I mean…I'd love to, but…that would be a lot of money," she said, a little alarmed.

"Not that much. After all you've done for me it's the least I can do! Yeah, you could have a weeklong vacation seeing the sights here and we'll all spend time together, and I'll show you all the nice parts of Pantherle," he said, feeling enthusiastic for the first time in days.

"Lion-O…that's really sweet, but there's a problem. Jaga mentioned it just the other day. The kittens haven't technically been adopted, and if security asked to see any form of ID proving they were with us, there might be a problem," Cheetara said quietly. Lion-O's excitement slowly drained out of him. The reality of this hit him in the stomach.

"Oh. Right. I forgot. I wouldn't want you to risk it then. Well, maybe I can figure out a few days coming up where I can come see you guys…" he trailed off.

Cheetara sighed. "I don't want to take you away from your work. It's like everything is trying to keep us apart."

"Yeah." Lion-O felt the warmth of the phone against his cheek and there was quiet on both ends. "…I miss you," he admitted. "I think about you all the time."

"Same here," she said. "I keep thinking you're going to walk in with Snarf and make the evening fun. I thought it'd become a little easier after a while, or at least more tolerable. But it just feels worse."

Lion-O's ears drifted back, miserable. "Think it would be any easier if we'd…y'know. Stayed friends?"

"No. No, that wouldn't help." Cheetara sounded wryly amused. "Then I would have the added regret of not telling you how I feel."

"Ah. Yeah, I guess so." Of course Cheetara would note that. She was the smart one when it came to things like that. Lion-O just sighed again. "We'll figure something out. I love you guys so much."

"We love you too. Tell me…was Tygra mad that I interrupted him that day the kittens called?"

Lion-O rolled his eyes. "I told him you only did it because he kept downing me. He wasn't mad at you, more at me. We haven't been talking much lately but I'm not sure why. I'm thinking I must have said something while I was…well, you know."

"I know you told me he moved out. Maybe that's for the best. A little space seems to have done you both some good." She paused and he heard someone calling from the background. "Oh…Lion-O, Jaga needs help in the examination room. Do you want me to get the kittens? They're napping right now."

"At the same time?" he asked bemusedly.

"Candyfruit. They begged, we caved. Only took eight hours to wear off."

"No, I'll talk to them later. It was nice to talk to you though. Love you."

"Love you too." She blew a kiss into the phone and Lion-O hung up the phone when the dull buzz of an ended call started. Snarf crawled up his chest and curled up happily, letting Lion-O rest his chin on the furry creature's back as he opened the folders and started reading through them.

"Snarf-Snarf-Snarf. Snarf?"

Lion-O shrugged. "I don't know. I really want to send her something nice. But she doesn't like flashy things. I wish I could bring them down here for a visit."

Snarf sighed and flicked his tail. Lion-O leaned on the armrest and asked, "Do you think sending some money to help save up for another clinic would be considered flashy? Too much?"

"Snarf-Snarf."

"Yeah, I guess so. Do you think we'll get this done? The generator I mean." Snarf nodded firmly, purring against his jugular. Lion-O squirmed and leaned his head back against the cushions. "Sorry I've been leaving you here so much. Maybe we can clear out some time on a weekend coming up. After the month is up, succeed or fail."

Snarf smacked his chin with a tiny paw, meowing disapproval. Lion-O smiled. "Sorry, succeed then." A little smirk rolled over Snarf's mouth and he rubbed up against his owner again, purring.

Lion-O scratched Snarf's head right behind his ears, and rested his eyes and listened to the sound of purring until he fell asleep sitting up on the couch, even as early in the evening as it was.

* * *

><p>Tygra shook his head, glad for the protective headgear from the gym and his mouth guard. Pumyra was smaller than him but she could hurt somebody. Including him.<p>

To be honest he never tried to hit her face even when they boxed. Even though it was Lion-O that was the softhearted one, Tygra didn't feel comfortable trying to hit a girl in general, let alone one he regarded on relatively friendly terms. That was why he preferred the wrestling to boxing; it was more about knocking the person down and pinning them than actually making blows connect. Even so, Pumyra was a formidable opponent that couldn't be knocked down just by his greater weight and height.

Their paws met and she growled; they were pushing against each other, trying to knock the other back, and the advantage was his. Tygra would have grinned if his teeth were free. Pumyra must have seen the glint of victory in his eye, for her brows lowered and with a sudden pull, she overbalanced him. As he went down Tygra tightened his grip on her paws, but instead of tripping forward Pumyra kicked off the mat and flipped over him, landing with her back on his. It was an aerobic little maneuver and quite unexpected. He grunted and finally released her fingers, letting her bend her wrists, and spat out his mouth guard. "I think you bruised my ribs."

"That or your pride," she said in a muffled voice. Pumyra rolled off and stood up, offering him a paw that he waved away, getting up stiffly. She shrugged and spat out her mouth guard.

"I have to admit that you're the only other person than a trainer that's ever bested me…even if it was cheap." He stretched a little, fingering the spot on his torso that burned, and decided it was only a little sore.

"What I lack in brawn I'll make up for in brain. Besides, I think we're even now. You beat me at benching by about sixty pounds-" she mused, removing her headgear.

"Sixty-four," he corrected. She rolled her eyes.

"Fine, sixty-four. And we were even in sprinting on the track. You won't box with me because you refuse to punch me in the face, and I don't count gymnastics as a win because you're afraid of what the uneven bars will do to your masculinity."

"Not to mention you suck at them too," Tygra added. The mat was abandoned and she followed him to the bench where they kept their duffel bags. Both withdrew water bottles and drank deeply. "So. What other athletic endeavors should we try?" he asked.

"I'm pretty tired. You'll have to live with being on equal ground with me instead of dominating the competition as you prefer. I need to pick Bengali up," Pumyra said, wiping her face with a clean towel from her bag. Tygra wouldn't admit it but he was disappointed; Pumyra was fun to work out with. Not to mention he didn't mind the occasional glimpse of cleavage from her tank top.

Hey, he was male. He didn't make a habit of looking, just noticed it when the shirt dipped.

The one evening at the gym had developed into a couple evenings every week. He'd noticed a marked improvement in her irritation levels, possibly because they were busy enough that she didn't have time to fret about Bengali. Lion-O liked being able to spend time with the naïve little oddball, Pumyra had a life, and Tygra had somebody to exercise with. It worked well enough.

He'd left a lot of friends behind at Tygus University. They kept in touch and he was social enough around here to have plans most of the time, but he was never very close to anyone. Pumyra was honest and refreshing, and he got the idea that she genuinely liked him. Even though she also thought he was egotistical and liked to show off. She seemed to like him anyway and for that he enjoyed the company.

Pumyra closed her cell phone. He looked at as she said, "Bengali's ready whenever. I'm beginning to think Mr. Rey is his only friend anymore."

"Your phone is prehistoric." It actually had to be opened. Tygra wiped his face and sighed. "Besides, birds of a feather. They're alike in some ways."

"I know. But I want him to have younger friends too. It's not healthy for a boy to only be around adults." She picked up her duffel bag and Tygra got to his feet.

"Lion-O's a kid at heart." She didn't agree or disagree with this, shouldering her bag as they headed out, leaving their gear in the used bin to be cleaned later. "He's a bad adult but a good kid."

To this she did object. "I think he's fine as an adult. Just a little idealistic. He's handling the generators pretty well so far. Not to mention Vultaire."

"Not really. We've gotten our time cut for Thundrillium, and the generator's prototype isn't finished yet." The air was brisk and cool as they left, heading down the stairs. The buildings around them were small and neat, overshadowed by the gym and its precise, clean bricks and lines. Pumyra pulled on her jacket whereas Tygra liked the feeling of the cold wind. "I'm just saying that if I were the boss, we wouldn't be in this situation."

Pumyra didn't answer until they got into the car and he'd started it. "That's true. You'd probably run things just the same as Mr. Claudus Rey. For better or worse."

He glanced at her. "What's that mean?"

She shrugged. "Just an observation. Sometimes change is good, sometimes it isn't. But if a company never changes it gets destroyed or surpassed completely. Your father was a good CEO but he didn't want to branch out much. I was just thinking about the directions we're trying to go is all."

Pumyra would never insult Dad, and Tygra hadn't taken it that way. He mulled over this as the car rolled out of the parking lot. "I guess I just wouldn't have taken this path. Too many things you can't control."

"I understand that. But history is rarely made by those that play it safe."

A good-natured debate followed this. He countered that making history was sometimes bad, as one could live in infamy and failure due to blunders. She returned with the fact that if attempts weren't at least made, there would be no remembering at all, and which was worse?

They argued for the sake of arguing, although there was no venom in their bickering. She was combative enough to disagree and he rose to the challenge. Tygra had to admit that Pumyra was probably the closest friend he had right now. But that was all she was. He was still sore about that matter with Cheetara and Lion-O.

He rejected this line of thinking and at a stop light he tapped the wheel. "We could pick up some dinner before I drop you off by your car," he offered. Pumyra cocked her head a little. "I don't think another hour would make any difference to my brother."

"In my shorts and tank top?" Pumyra gestured to his clothing. "You could probably get away with being in a public place in yours, but I'm a bit of a mess."

Tygra inspected her and said, "Oh please, I've seen women walking around in their yoga pants and pajamas. You wear those better than they do anyway."

She smirked. "Good to know for certain you look. I had my suspicions…"

"Come now, 'Ms. Verus.' You're not unattractive. And I'm a man like any other in _some _respects," he said archly.

Pumyra looked into her duffel bag and pulled out her purse. "Be still my heart. How humble. Well…I left my change of clothes in my car. Let me get them on and I see if Mr. Rey minds watching Bengali for another hour. I trust him." The light had turned green and it was a rather quiet few minutes until they reached the parking garage of Thunder Enterprises. It was empty, spaciously dark, and it was easy to find her slightly beat up little car. Tygra glanced at her but said nothing. Seeing his look Pumyra got out and when he parked and exited the driver's side she explained, "I don't like new car smell. And I'm saving money for Bengali's college and in order to buy a house. Where we live now is nice, but it's pretty far out."

He just nodded and scanned the parking lot. "Are you going to change in there?"

"Probably. Try anything funny I'll harm you." Knowing she could make good on her threat, Tygra turned away when she climbed in and shut the door, leaning on the side of the car. He noted a car parked a few yards away and blinked.

"Hey…whose car is that?"

"What?" She was down below the windows and he tapped on the glass.

"There's a car here." The window slid down and Pumyra poked her head out of it.

After a minute of examining it Pumyra said, "That's Vultaire's. He's the only one around that has a Plundarran car. It's a Lurro." It was shiny like oil and a very sleek, streamlined vehicle. It basically screamed, "Money and foreign."

Tygra felt his face tighten with dislike. "Why would he be out here when everyone else has headed home?" He glanced at Pumyra to see her expression and then did a double-take. She noticed this and frowned.

"What?"

"You…ah…would you put your blouse on?" Granted her bra was still covering her, but even Tygra – who was by no means a virgin – found himself more than a little surprised by her indifference to being partially exposed. She rolled her eyes and muttered something about men, pulling on her crisp white shirt and buttoning it up.

"What was I supposed to do? You wanted me to see something and I was unprepared." He listened to the shuffle of clothing and waited until she climbed out of the car, a little rumpled but prim once again.

"Whatever. My question remains. What is he doing here?"

Pumyra tilted her head. "I'm…not sure." Her ears twitched and roved, listening intently.

"Suspicious, isn't it? Think we should call Lion-O, or do you-?" Tygra asked.

Stiffening, Pumyra grabbed him and dragged him into her car, clapping a palm over his mouth when he protested. "Sh! Look!" she hissed. Tygra squinted over the bottom of the open window as she pulled the door very nearly shut.

He saw what she'd seen after about ten seconds; Vultaire was crossing the parking lot rapidly, talons clicking as he headed to his car. But he paused for a moment, not looking in their direction but beyond them. Standing like a predatory statue, Vultaire stared at whatever it was before continuing to his car and getting in. Tygra only lifted his head when Vultaire drove out of the parking garage, the muzzy gold of his headlights fading. "Well. Wonder what he was up to?"

Pumyra frowned, eyes following the angle of where Vultaire's face had been pointed. "He saw your car. Think he knows which one is yours?"

"Probably." Tygra shifted and she released him, nudging his behind until he got out. "Hey, paws off the merchandise."

"Move the merchandise then." She climbed out of the car, scowling after the smell of fresh exhaust. "Maybe we should check on the security tapes?"

"Yeah. I think that's an idea. Let the security personnel know to keep an eye on him. We've got so many cameras around that he'll have to show up on one of them." Tygra shut the car door and gestured for her to follow him. "Dinner might have to be order-in, Ms. Verus," he said coolly.

"Just as well. I've got a number for cheap eastern cuisine." She jogged after him, taking her phone out. At his blink, Pumyra said, "You try feeding a tween cub and saving for his college on a budget."

* * *

><p>Vultaire was a coward at heart.<p>

As long as he felt he was smug and high above the competition, he could maddeningly superior. But when he thought he was in trouble or one step behind, Vultaire got…antsy.

He was on the phone to call Mumm-Ra as soon as he left Thunder Enterprises. "This had better be important. I'm in the process of changing my bandages," Mumm-Ra said softly. Vultaire squirmed, getting out of his car and fumbling with his keys as he undid the lock and headed into his home. It was decorated in burnt umbers and cool grays; it reminded him of Avista in that it was clean and neat and just a little chilly. He shut the door behind him.

"Ah, yes. Your…burns." He coughed. "Anyway, when I left the parking lot I saw Tygra Rey's car. I think he might be onto me."

Mumm-Ra seemed to stir. "Did you do anything? I haven't told you to."

"No, I was just figuring out the full layout and where all the generators were in development. I don't have access to the other labs during the day. I didn't stick around." Vultaire listened to the crispy noise of cloth being tightened and Mumm-Ra coughing. "We've only got another month before the permit expires. Since the 'complaint' was filed. But something is up. Lion-O doesn't seem as worried as he ought to be."

"Playing the hero. Image is everything for that company right now." Mumm-Ra paused and Vultaire sighed and flapped his wings, lifting off his hardwood floor and hopping to the carved oak perch beside his bookshelf. "Would it make you feel better if I got rid of Tygra? I could have someone down there to do it in a month."

Vultaire was preening his wing anxiously and stopped. "Why so long? And why the change in heart?"

"I would want to do it at a time that would prevent Lion-O from being able to wriggle out of his deadline. We can't risk Thundrillium being bought up by Thunder Enterprises before we figure out how to-"

Vultaire cawed. "So foolish. The money that could be made if you only wanted it as energy! But no, you want a weapon-"

"-Power _is_ worth more than money. And if you want safety in the coming years, drop it." Mumm-Ra's voice deepened and crusted with ice. Vultaire clacked his beak delicately.

"Fine. But you'll get someone to off the tiger? I hate that smug, striped little cat. He insinuated that cats have superior flight skills in a plane to birds because of a few aviators through history! The cheek! I don't think any non-feline will be sorry to see the whelp go."

Vultaire was pleased when he heard, "Fine, fine. I'll get Kaynar on it. He's been begging me to give him a job so he can test out a new weapon personally. I'll admit messing with Thunder Enterprises has been interesting, but I'm about ready to finish. Once Lion-O's project fails and Tygra is out of the way, our broken little cub will look to whoever can help…and who but I will be there to catch him as he falls from grace? The only heir will be in my paws."

Vultaire grunted. "All right. So…shall I…?"

"The night before the permit expires. Inspectors will come to see the progress on the generator on the expiration date. Make sure there is nothing to see at all."

* * *

><p>Bill looked over the garage and the machines within it, seeing dozens of pieces of technology and the plans sitting on the workbench table off to the side, and several samples of Thundrillium waiting there. Then he turned to Panthro and hugged his leg. "Bill love Panthro. It like berbil Christmas."<p>

Panthro cleared his throat. "C'mon, are we gonna work on Thundrillium or are we going to cuddle?"

Bill tilted his head and rested in on Panthro's knee. "Bill like cuddling," he said. Berbil humor was hard to detect due to their monotone voices, but Panthro had known him long enough to know when Bill was kidding.

It took two hours, but Bill – with a small machine he said he'd been working on for the past week – installed one of the pieces of Thundrillium and delivered a shock to it. "Machine will store energy from Thundrillium, use it to stimulate Thundrillium with constant current. Bill attach battery to absorb excess energy. Need monitor to measure better, but that cost much money." The berbil watched the Thundrillium's glow brighten and said, "Oooooooh…pretty."

"Little man, you're a genius." Panthro picked him up and watched the stone glow warmly. "I've got something to measure the energy output. I've overloaded a few batteries in my day. Let's see…"

Bill rode Panthro's shoulder as he stooped to search through a stack of machinery, looking them over. "Panthro, bigger piece of Thundrillium would put out more energy. If this work, make big generator and run house on it. Robear house and diner have high electric bill."

Panthro laughed, finding his energy monitor and installing it to their toaster-sized machine. "How much you think we can get out of this? I'll be honest, I don't really know what it'll be able to power, if anything. This'll be the first time I can measure what Thundrillium can do."

"Put out energy, but how much?" Bill looked down at the homemade monitor, reading the numbers behind the glass screen. "Panthro make this. Smart Panthro."

Panthro sat down in front of it, squinting. "Bill, your eyes are better than mine. Is that readout saying what I think it's saying?"

Bill pointed at it with a tiny finger. "Put out this number…oh. That is much."

"You're kidding me, right? That's…" Panthro began, doing some mental calculations. "Bill, that'd be enough for me run my house on. If it keeps output up at this level…whiskers."

"Get bigger Thundrillium piece into generator…modify…run whole block." There was no beating a berbil when it came to mathematical calculation and technology, and he clapped his hands. "Bill like. Panthro think element be developed more?"

"Heck yeah. Lion-O's working on a generator right now. Think about it; if we can get a good lump of Thundrillium and keep it stimulated, there's no knowing how long it'll provide energy. And if we can make it so you only need a Thundrillium engine to run a car," Panthro said, grinning at Bill. The berbil began to bounce.

"Bill can make! Bill help build!" He hurled himself onto Panthro's arm and Panthro shook his head.

"Looks like you were right kid," he said softly. "I just hope you can finish your generator in time."

* * *

><p>Tygra had mentioned that Vultaire's presence at the company's research building and gone through the security tapes. It looked like he was wandering the building, looking over the generators. Upon being confronted, Vultaire acted offended. "I was just checking on things! I was in the neighborhood and wanted to make sure all the generators were secure for the night! The nerve!"<p>

Lion-O believed little of what Vultaire said. But nothing seemed amiss with the tech, so he was willing to put suspicion aside. The researchers were to keep an eye on Vultaire as always. "I want to fire that arrogant jerk," Tygra muttered.

Leaning in when Vultaire was out of earshot, Lion-O said, "After the permit expires, whether we convince them or not, we're going to get rid of Vultaire. We made his contract match the permit's time span."

The weeks began to move faster it seemed. They were like runners starting out slow and then moving downhill, speeding up until they were coming up on a fall. Vultaire's generator made surprising progress, although that was more because the research team was tired of letting him boss them around, so they started fighting him when he wanted to make bad decisions. Bengali hung around and helped where he could, but Lion-O knew that work on the other generator was still continuing on the sly. It grew and became more finished and polished every day. But time was short, and he didn't know if they would be able to get another permit for Thundrillium.

Bengali said little about school, but Lion-O gleaned from their conversations that bullying was still going on. He had an idea of how to make it stop other than going to the principal, and decided to put it into effect on Friday, one week before the government officials were coming to see the generator. It was not a gigantic, dramatic thing, but he thought it would do.

Lion-O knew how to drive fairly well. He didn't do it terribly often, living in a city with excellent public transportation. But for what he wanted to do, he was going to drive. And not just any car would do for this.

Dad's car had been reverently stationed in the apartment parking lot, and it had been driven perhaps two times since his death. But today, Lion-O was going to drive it to draw attention. It was not necessarily the wisest thing he'd ever done, but it was one way he was going to let a few people know that Bengali had friends in powerful places. If he couldn't use his position to defend his friends, it was completely worthless.

The car was sleek and black, only two years old. It was not extravagant but it was bold and large enough to house Claudus, and Lion-O noticed the pleasant black upholstery had a nice gleam to it.

North Pantherle Middle School was small. It housed about four hundred students, had average passing and failing rates, and its locker rooms smelled like feet. He knew because he'd attended it himself years ago. He pulled up to the curb and parked in the designated area, looking at the familiar brown bricks and remembering the lonely, prepubescent years there with some distaste. It was at this age kids had learned to pick on each other most of all and he still felt a childish roiling in his stomach at the thought of entering the unfriendly halls.

The kids came out the doors to the buses first, and watching the doors for a flash of white, Lion-O spotted neutral furry faces mixed with a few scaled ones. He felt the gazes of parents and older siblings in the cars parked nearby, and the sun on the roof of the car reflected, attracting the attention of the students. Some of them muttered and Lion-O ignored it. It wasn't every day that a CEO in a business suit pulled up. He hunted through the crowd until he spotted a familiar cub and then he lifted his arm. "Bengali! Bengali, over here!"

The white head – recovering from being flicked on the ear by a passing cat – swiveled to face the direction of the cry. Bengali's eyes widened and he beamed, waving back. He broke away from the group and ran toward Lion-O, backpack bouncing. "Hi! You didn't tell me you were coming today!"

"I figured you'd like to get something to eat before we go to the research building. I didn't think Pumyra would mind since it would be quicker than a bus ride." Lion-O glanced over Bengali's shoulder, spotting a few incredulous faces. "Are these your friends?"

Bengali glanced over his shoulder and said, "Um. I guess."

Lion-O nodded at them. A few faces paled and a couple coughed. "Well, let's go Bengali. I need your help today with something. We have to keep working on the generator."

"Okay! Can we pick up something for Sis? I've got a few dollars." Bengali ran around to the other side of the car and got in. Lion-O just gave the kids a long look.

"…Are you really Lion-O Rey?" one of the boys asked. He had black and brown fur and a piercing in his ear. Lion-O nodded. "And…Bengali's a friend of yours?"

"Yes. And he's helping me with some projects. He's a mathematical genius after all. Those are hard to come by." He narrowed his eyes as they exchanged glances. The gravity of who they had angered by bullying the cub was becoming evident. "He's mentioned bullies to me that say he's not smart. I'm afraid they're quite mistaken, whoever they are. He's quite brilliant. And I don't appreciate cowardly bullies picking on him because they're jealous of that. It had better stop, unless they want the principal to be informed."

Lion-O said nothing else, only getting into the car and starting it up again. Bengali looked at him as they pulled away, leaving several students behind in shock. "…You did that on purpose."

"Yep. Let me know if the bullying gets any better." Lion-O smiled at him. "So, what did you want to get?"

Tacos were the food of the day, and Lion-O picked up extra for Pumyra – Bengali paid for those even though Lion-O insisted he didn't have to – and Tygra. Junk food was not a staple of Tygra's diet but Lion-O knew that his brother was rather unsuccessful at refusing anything involving cilantro. Bengali was pleased at the sensation of being picked up from school, and was a little boisterous when they returned to Lion-O's office. "Sis! Sis, Lion-O picked me up today!" He paused and looked a little abashed. "I didn't even know you could drive."

"It's one of my lesser-known, less practiced abilities. Dad preferred not to drive with me," Lion-O said. Bengali gave Pumyra the paper bag of tacos and she looked at them and then at Bengali with scrutiny.

"You were always inclined to get distracted at sixteen," Tygra interjected, and Lion-O was surprised to see him looking through one of the filing cabinets by the wall. "So driving practice was a dangerous exercise. Did you finish that file about the adjustments to our budget for the tax increases?"

"Yeah, on my desk, in my red folder," Lion-O said. Tygra turned around and picked it up and let out a grunt when Lion-O hit him in the diaphragm with another paper bag. "Cilantro on the taco, no verde sauce, right?"

Tygra muttered something and looked into the bag. "Thanks. Next time you want to run off tell me."

Lion-O shrugged noncommittally. Pumyra was still looking at Lion-O with mistrust. "Why did you pick Bengali up? He always comes on the bus."

"I just thought he'd like to be picked up for once. You were busy and I figured I'd go get him." Lion-O should have known better than to fib. Lying was his weakness. Her face became drawn, deadly. Bengali no longer seemed so happy as he fell under her perusing glare.

"Well…I um…I haven't told you but there've been some bullies bothering me. Lion-O promised he'd get them to stop," Bengali admitted.

Pumyra's irises grew flinty. "Why didn't you tell me? And what did he do?" Lion-O watched her push the bag aside and stand up.

"I just picked him up from school. Some of the kids asked if I was Lion-O Rey and if I was Bengali's friend. I said yes and that Bengali was really smart and that if I heard anyone was bullying him, the principal was going to find out." Lion-O watched with uneasy interest as Pumyra's face slowly turned the rich color of a beet.

"That's my job! _I _look after Bengali! And what are you playing at, attracting more attention to him? What makes you think you have the right to just pick him up from school? Didn't an adult question you?" she snapped.

Bengali shook his head. "Sis, it's not a big deal. Lion-O was just helping. I don't mind."

"Well I do. It's not enough to start hiring tutors and pestering you in that way, so he starts drawing attention at your school?" Pumyra stood up and paced over to Bengali, putting a finger on his chest. "Look, next time you're having trouble, you tell _me_. I'll fix the issue. You don't have to bother Mr. Rey with it all the time. These are delicate situations, and I don't want you tied into them."

"Sis, I like the tutors! And I…I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd get upset. You get mad at stuff like that really easily," he muttered.

Pumyra flinched as if she'd been stung. "Well then. Don't bother telling me anything, if you think I get too angry," she snapped. She walked out the door and Bengali ran after her.

"Sis! Sis, wait! I just don't like seeing you upset!"

Lion-O stared after them. "I have no idea what that was about. I mean…I'm sorry for attracting some attention, but I had to get them to stop bullying Bengali, and Bengali wouldn't tell me the names of the kids doing it. What's she so mad about?"

"It's probably partly because she's nervous about Vultaire and everything that's going on. But I think she's jealous of you," Tygra said mildly. Lion-O waited until he was done taking a bite before answering.

"Why would she be jealous?"

"Oh, y'know. You and Bengali have been so chummy lately, he's telling you his problems instead of her…she's probably mad that he likes you so much is all."

Lion-O realized that this was both honest and sensible. He stood there speechless, listening as Tygra continued eating for about a minute. "…I didn't think about it. You're right. She's crazy about him, and…wow. How did you figure that out?" he asked.

"She and I have been going to the gym remember? We talk a little. And think about how that sounded; he told you he was being bullied because he trusted you, but he was worried Pumyra would overreact. If the situation were reversed, how would you feel?" Tygra looked into the bag and took out the other wrapped taco.

Lion-O felt a little weird faced with this wisdom. "Did you figure that out yourself? No offense, but you're not exactly the most emotional and affectionate person around."

"No, but I _do _know what it's like to be jealous. That's one emotion I understand perfectly well." He gave Lion-O a sardonic look. "Anyway, let's worry about Pumyra's emotional state and my understanding thereof at another time. We're approaching the deadline pretty quick; one week. Do you think you guys can get anything built on time?"

Lion-O took off his suit jacket and said, "I've got them working on it right now and I'll head over after I finish my files. Panthro has been sending me information and ideas. Maybe we'll figure something out…maybe. We're trying to get Vultaire's machine to work because we've spent so much time on it, but our other little experiment is what I'm really hoping on. But I just don't know if we'll have the time. I mean, if we can at least get a machine working enough to use stimulate the Thundrillium and power something reliably, they might go for a longer permit…"

He sat down, looking down at his cufflinks. "We're dealing with a lot of unknowns. It may not mean much to you, but making Thundrillium work is important to me." Lion-O sighed and scratched his head, ruffling his mane. "I feel like we could do something with it, if only we had more time or information."

"Welcome to our world. The world of reality where good feelings and intentions amount to very little." Tygra leaned against his desk. "Still, I'm going to like watching Vultaire leave. I'm sick of him."

Lion-O just looked down at his paws. They were tired, and his claws were a little uneven. Stress was making them brittle. "Yeah. He's been a real problem."

Pumyra returned a few minutes later, looking somewhat calmer. Bengali had gone over to the research building and Lion-O checked his e-mail with the intent of going over after it. Panthro had sent a message – working on Thundrillium with Bill, much to Lion-O's amusement – and he wondered what the panther would do with whatever was left. Technically he would be able to keep it as long as his personal permits lasted.

There was no time to waste. After he finished sorting his e-mail, Lion-O picked up a few of his files and headed toward the door. He paused and said to Pumyra, "I'm sorry if you don't want me stepping in. I just didn't want him to get bullied like I was as a kid."

"…Next time just tell me," she said frostily. He decided that was all he could hope for and left, trying to figure out his remaining tasks for the day.

* * *

><p>It took a lot to make Lynxana feel guilty. Or it had in the past few years, anyway. And honestly, other than pestering a family a little and making a deal to save her job, she hadn't done anything illicit for the success at PENN.<p>

But she still felt bad when they received e-mails being spiteful about Lion-O Rey. Some of their news articles had been unflattering – well, nobody liked a nice news station – and played up his inexperience, and the messages had been brutal. Sylvestir was gleeful at the controversy and the spite because it meant interest was high, but Lynxana just read the comments with a sick feeling.

_I guess it's just been a long time since anyone we focused on was as nice as this kid._

She'd brought trouble on him, and the reward had been more money and fame than she'd ever thought possible. Lynxana had always believed in people getting their just desserts – journalism sought the truth, and helped see that justice was done – so perhaps that was why it bothered her so much now.

Maybe she was actually starting to like the kid. She felt revolted and hoped not.

"Zanny, got another news break to do on Lion-O Rey." Sylvestir slid into the seat across from her. Lynxana looked up at him in annoyance, spoon still stuck in the bowl in her palm.

"Y'know I hate it when people interrupt my fro-yo. And don't call me Zanny."

"Yeah, whatever." He waved his tail impatiently. "Lion-O was spotted at a local high school picking up the kid brother of his secretary. I was thinking we could put a kind of romantic spin on it, like maybe he's trying to impress her or something. Just to get things a little juicier. Or maybe we could cause some trouble for the school. I mean, he's not Bengali's legal guardian. How lax are they? Whatcha think?" he asked.

Lynxana used the spoon to search for a chilled strawberry. The station cafeteria was warm and the cold fruit was a nice contrast. "But he's dating Cheetara. There's no way he's going for that butch secretary of his. Her voice is deeper than yours, Sylvestir."

His face reddened. "Well…yeah, but I figured we could throw that in. Because you only promised not to report on Cheetara, not some other chick. Gets people curious, y'know?"

She snorted. "No, I can't report on employees either, remember? Just him and the company overall. And," she added, "the cub's out of the question since he's a friend. And just because the school didn't freak out when Bengali obviously knew Lion-O and was back the next school day doesn't necessarily mean they're negligent."

Sylvestir shook his head. "Man Zanny; you're playing by the book this time. How are we supposed to report on it then?"

"We don't." She took another mouthful of frozen yogurt and noticed his eyes bulging. "What?"

"Uh…Lynxana? You've been acting weird lately. You haven't been wanting to do any interesting stories or find gossipy stories. And things have been really good…the others and I just don't want anything to happen that might mess that up. Is something wrong?" he asked. Lynxana scraped her utensil against the Styrofoam bowl.

"Nah. I just don't want to report too much negativity about Lion-O Rey. He just doesn't deserve the crap he's getting."

"But that's what sells, what got us successful. Are you willing to go back to mediocre sleaze about celebrities? We're a real news station now." Sylvestir shook his head. "I know you've warmed up to the guy, but I don't care if he's a jerk or not; he's our key to keeping our jobs and success. You need to interview him again soon so we have more to report on."

Her claws rapped against the side of the bowl. "Yeah. Sure. I guess." She rested her chin in her paw. "But no twisting things. I'm tired of the fibs. Just last week we insinuated he'd been trying drugs because someone sent in a picture online of him taking some kind of pill. Know what it was? Candy. He was eating freaking candy. And there are still loons watching our channel that swear up and down he must be doing hard drugs like a bunch of starlets. He's getting spat at instead of us, and we were the liars. I mean…he hasn't done anything we know of."

Lynxana stood up and lifted her empty bowl, pushing open the flap to the nearest garbage can to their table. "Whatever. I'm just in a funk, I guess."

Sylvestir seemed to have missed her point. "Are you on your rag? My sister gets like this whenever she's on hers. Kind of sentimental and girly." Lynxana stopped, released the flap, and turned around to dump the remainder of the frozen yogurt on his head. She then walked off, still conflicted but feeling a little better for having found a good use for the uneaten food.

Waste not want not and all that jazz.

* * *

><p>"Do you think it's enough?"<p>

Lion-O tilted his head and scrubbed a palm across his eyes. "I don't know. But I don't think any of us can handle another all-nighter."

The cat sighed and sat back, leaning on the wall. "We've gotten it to the point that it stores energy and maintains an atmosphere that'll keep Thundrillium releasing energy. I just hope that's enough tomorrow."

The others all muttered and stretched. One was sitting up with his head drooped onto his chest, precariously balanced on his haunches. Lion-O was looking over Vultaire's mess of a plan while trying not to disturb Bengali. The white tiger had been looking at it too, sitting beside him, but now he was half-asleep. Bengali's chin and cheek rested on his neck, and the faint sound of a snoring purr blew over his ear.

Lion-O then gazed at the generator. Vultaire had been off for a few days, and they had used the time to really haul tail and fix it up. The secret generator rested in the back room, partially finished, and Lion-O hoped that if anything went wrong with this one the officials would be suitably impressed by the other one. The Thundrillium in the generator was humming, glowing palest pink. But Lion-O still sighed; it was putting out energy, but it wasn't big enough to house a very large piece of Thundrillium. And he still wasn't sure how much energy could be put out, or if it would run anything.

His dream of making Thundrillium a real power source was wavering before his eyes. If it slipped away this time, perhaps it was just time to let it go. Lion-O could deal with that, he supposed. Twenty to forty years of running the company…the same way it had always been run…day in and day out.

Bengali rubbed his cheek against his shoulder. Lion-O heard footsteps in the hall outside and craned his neck to see Pumyra, and the smallest flash of envy in her eyes. She really was jealous that Bengali liked him so much. Lion-O thought this silly; Bengali was a kid much like himself, and he liked boyish things. Just because he'd found a friend to associate with didn't mean he loved his sister any less.

Oh well. Whatever. Lion-O found himself speaking less lately, not having the energy to expend on it. Four all-nighters and two hours of sleep found him a bit duller than he might have usually been. He nudged Bengali gently and the cub's blue eyes opened, filmy with sleep. "Hey bud. Pumyra's here. I think it's time for you to go home."

"I have to stay late to finish something, actually. I just thought Bengali could nap on the sofa in the office is all, although he seems comfortable where he is," she said lightly. Bengali rubbed his eyes and got to his feet, ambling over to her and hugging her.

Her face softened when he yawned and mumbled, "Sorry. 'M really sleepy. When are we going home?"

"In an hour or so. Come on, you've done enough." She took his paw and Bengali looked at the generator.

"Will they say we can keep working on Thundrillium? I think it's really cool," he said.

"I hope so. But even if they don't, we've done all we can. You've been a big help Bengali. Go on and get some sleep," Lion-O said, ruffling his mane. Bengali smiled and followed Pumyra, and Lion-O spotted his brother beyond the doorway.

He turned to his research team and said, "I think we've gotten these as good as we can. We were given six months and had to cram work into three. You guys have done really great, and I appreciate all the work you've put in, in spite of…certain people."

One of the cats laughed and another rolled his eyes. "Let's go home. If this doesn't impress them there's nothing we can do to change their minds now. They come at noon. Let's get some rest."

Their faces grew happy and tired, and Lion-O picked up his suit jacket, draping it over his shoulder before locking the door to the back room and then exiting, locking the entrance to the official machine as well. "I'm beat."

"Everybody is. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Palustri ran some files over and wants you to approve them before we head home." Lion-O groaned and Tygra shrugged. "It'll only take half an hour. I'll help you."

Half an hour felt like an eternity. The other labs were all locked so the brothers returned to the main office, Lion-O feeling a little disturbed by how quiet and empty the building was. Pumyra was still in the office with a cup of coffee, lamp pleasantly gold. Bengali was curled up on the sofa and he had her coat draped over him. Soft snoring filled the air and Lion-O turned to his desk, skimming the pages as the minutes ticked by.

_It feels like nothing's going to happen. Like they'll turn it down. _He should have been more upset but he was too tired to care right now. Too many things were pulling at him, and all he wanted right then was to go to bed with Snarf curled up by his side. Lion-O found himself thinking of the Clera's couch and the closeness of the house. It would have been very appreciated right then.

"Lion-O. Your phone." He lifted his chin and glanced at Tygra, who tossed him the phone from one of the file cabinets. He caught it and squinted at the blurry number. It was familiar, and he flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Rey! Mr. Rey, are you there?"

He held the phone away from his ear at the scream. Shocked wide awake, he recognized the voice of one of the researchers. "Siame, what's wrong?"

"Someone has broken into the research building! I'm standing right next to a solar panel one of the teams constructed and someone's destroyed it!"

Lion-O's fingers went numb and he had to clutch the phone with both paws. "What?"

"Smashed it to pieces! So were the machines on the first floor!" Siame sounded panicked and Lion-O pulled on his jacket, giving Tygra a short gesture that meant, 'Get your tail over here.' "I came back to get my jacket but the doors were all open! Sir, I don't know who is doing this, but-"

"Siame I'm two minutes away. Leave the building and watch the door. I'll deal with this. Call the police and tell them what you saw. Don't confront anyone, they might be dangerous."

When he hung up Tygra was already ahead of him, running to the door. Pumyra watched them in silence before getting up and looking through the window. "There aren't any lights on. Should I come with you?"

"No, stay here in case we need backup. Somebody's wrecking things?" Tygra had longer legs but Lion-O drew level with him, sprinting toward to the elevator.

"I guess. This couldn't come at a worse time." They were down to the lobby within a minute, the elevator agonizingly slow. Their claws and footsteps echoed in the vast expanse, quiet and dark as an unfilled cathedral. "If they destroy the Thundrillium generator, there'll be no chance at all. All this work will be ruined," Lion-O whispered, and something like panic burned in his stomach.

"Shut up and run," Tygra snapped. They flew out the doors and into the warming air.

* * *

><p>A jackal climbed out of the subway, excusing himself quietly as people pressed in on either side. He was taller than most of them and he worked his way to one of the stands that had maps and advertisement brochures. Slipping one out of its jacket he opened it and scanned the contents.<p>

"Hm…if he's heard about what Vulty's doing…let's see…"

He smiled at the stand's attendant. "Kind lady, would you be able to tell me the quickest way to Thunder Enterprises' research building? I have a late appointment to meet."

She smiled, a pretty, peach-colored mutt. "Well sir, the route in red on your map is actually the best way to get there. You should arrive in about ten minutes if you walk."

He grinned and her smile faltered; he'd always had a lot of teeth, and to show them all tended to unnerve people. "Thank you. You may have just enabled me to arrive on time." He took the brochure and sauntered away, heading up the stairs. _He and Lion-O will be there to stop the fun. So I should wait in the parking lot. That'll work._

He imagined he heard a sigh of disappointment from his hip. Kaynar smiled, fondling the tiny gun in his pocket. "Just a little bit, sweetie pie. A spoonful of patience before you get to shine."


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: No, I do not own this franchise. Or any other, currently. I get as much money from this as my dog gets for neurosurgery. Which to say none that I know of. As much as I love the little critter, he lacks opposable thumbs, and probably couldn't operate much machinery.

At last, the chapter you've all been waiting for…things have gotten bad, and they will dip one step lower before we get to turn around. But it'll all happen here. Well, okay, there's an epilogue coming too. But you know what I mean.

Although a certain occurrence in this chapter was not directly inspired by another work, I do note that, in retrospect, there are some similarities between it and one of the very talented haikomori's works. This was unintended…although she's incredibly good, so I guess that's a good sign at any rate. You should go read her stuff. It's very nice.

Also, a warning; there is a death in this chapter at the very end, and it deals with delicate subject matter. Meaning basically it's a suicide. It's nobody you care about – at least, I don't think most people like this character – but just be aware of it.

If you don't like LiChee, get the flip out. No, kidding…but seriously, if you hate it go away. I mean really now, we're hundreds of pages in. If you're still following it that's on you, not me. Because LiChee returns as of this chapter.

* * *

><p>"<em>Well, I came home<br>Like a stone,  
>And I fell heavy into your arms,<br>These days of darkness  
>Which we've known.<br>Will blow away with this new sun…._

_Raise my hands,  
>Paint my spirit gold.<br>And bow my head,  
>Feel my heart slow."<em>

_I Will Wait, _Mumford and Sons

* * *

><p>The first solar panel looked like a heap of trash.<p>

Tygra stopped to examine it. The technology under the panel itself had been rewired, torn, and altogether ripped out, and the panel had been completely shattered. It was utterly unsalvageable. It seemed like an angry child had pulled and ripped and thrown a tantrum. He picked up one black shard and just stared. "Who…?"

"Come on! We have to try to catch them!" Lion-O had already started up the stairs. "Take the elevator so they can't come down it!"

He had made it to the second floor before he heard the door opening and his heart pounded in his ears as the floors flashed by. He dared to check on the other generators as he headed up the stairs, looking in some of the labs. The same sight met him each time.

Smashed. Mangled. Destroyed. Nothing was left whole and unturned.

He kept sprinting. In the empty staircase the sound of his breath echoed, and when he made it to the top floor he heard a shout. Tygra had beat him here. He exited the stairs and the first thing he heard was, "Why am I not surprised?"

Lion-O's chest was burning, but he still growled when he saw the culprit standing in the hall outside the Thundrillium lab. Vultaire seemed stunned at their presence; so stunned, in fact, that he dropped the hammer in his paw. It struck the ground with a loud ring and Lion-O somehow felt a little underwhelmed. A hammer, really? Couldn't it be something more dramatic? After all, it had done so much damage and ruined the work of so many. They deserved for it to at least be something massive.

"Mr. Rey…what an unwelcome surprise." Vultaire sheathed his fear in a semblance of cool superiority. "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter. I've finished."

Lion-O looked beyond him and felt curiously numb. The generator Vultaire had helped build lay in dark ruins around the floor, bashed to pieces. He stepped forward, past Vultaire, and scanned the room.

Ripped plans. A mess of feathers from exertion. The locked door.

_The locked door._

"Watch him," Lion-O said to Tygra, not bothering to say 'please.' Tygra nodded and stepped forward, craning Vultaire's wing behind his back. As the bird shrieked insults and protests, Lion-O took his copy of the key and unlocked the door.

The generator Bengali had started sat pristinely whole, neat and bright as a smile if still unfinished. He blinked and thought of the investment lost in all the generators, but he could only think, _we still have a chance. He didn't get them all. A little work might make it passable._

Vultaire seemed speechless at the sight of the machine. "You…I…how…?"

Tygra yanked his arm more forcefully than needed and grinned, saying, "When you don't trust a feather-mite infested liar, you have a backup plan. We've been suspicious of you and Mumm-Ra for a while now."

The yellow eyes observed Lion-O locking the door back and approaching. Then, Vultaire's beak curved in a grin, and he started laughing. Lion-O and Tygra exchanged looks and Tygra gave the bird a kick, cutting off the laugh with a caw of pain. "What's so funny?"

It took a minute for his breath to return. "You…you may have one more machine. But you haven't even noticed what else you're missing."

Lion-O's little bubble of hope slumped as he looked around. Tygra shook his head. "What is he talking about?"

"The Thundrillium," Lion-O whispered. His chest was tight again and his mouth didn't want to work. "What did you do with it?"

"Pulverized it. Into chunks of dust. You know how fragile it is. You can crush it in a strong paw." Tygra released Vultaire in shock, and he preened his wing with a nip and a flourish. He was obviously pleased with himself. "And then I threw it out the window."

Lion-O looked to the small row of windows along the side of the room. They were rarely opened unless it got stuffy, and he slowly paced toward the one at the end of the row. It was up, letting frigid air into the room. He looked out onto the city and the little blobs of light from the skyscrapers, and then he touched the bottom frame. The bulbs looked like melted butter on bread burnt so black it had turned to ash.

Pinkish glitter came away on his paws. Not much, but he knew what it was. He let his paw slump and sit on the window again, just staring out into the deep night.

Vultaire laughed again. "Even with your generator, you won't be able to do anything without Thundrillium! Such children, trying to compete with the adults…"

Tygra grabbed him by the wing, turned him around, and gave him a blow to the head. Vultaire crumpled to the ground and Tygra took care to tread on his wings as he stepped over him. One bone might have snapped from the crisp break he heard. "Okay, don't panic. Maybe…maybe he missed a piece or something. It was supposed to be over there, wasn't it?" His white paw descended on Lion-O's shoulder. "Did you keep any in another area? If you didn't that was dumb. You only have the one supply; you have to set some aside in case of emergency!"

Lion-O looked at him, and Tygra's irritation melded into something like concern. "Lion-O?"

"…It's all over. He wrecked everything. I blew it." The glitter fluttered from his fingers, glow lost.

_Mumm-Ra won._

The dead, thick, choking feeling in him was just too much to say anything else. What else was there? It was over, over like a cancelled show that had made too many mistakes and finally sputtered to a dead halt.

"Oh come on. Where's the peppy, day-dreamy, 'we can change the world' kid brother? There has to be something we can do."

Lion-O just walked past him, gazing at the room. His eyes were heavy and in his heart there was the barbed, familiar sting of failure. "I should never have accepted Mumm-Ra's offer. Even if it made us look bad. Now PENN will get to report on how the first big action of Thunder Enterprises' new CEO was a complete flop that cost hundreds of thousands."

_Or maybe I should have listened earlier. Maybe then Dad would still be here and we wouldn't be in this mess._

"Due to a criminal. That's not exactly fair." Tygra's face was drawn and Lion-O wondered at it. His brother had never shown any concern over Lion-O's experiment before. "I mean, your Thundrillium did something. You were at least half right. Won't that be enough?"

"I don't know. We have no proof except what might be on the security tapes."

"The tapes. I'll check them and see what we can find. It's not over, okay? You've still got most of a generator; maybe they'll do an extension and provide another sample." Tygra ran his paws through his mane, making the stripes stick up. Lion-O didn't get it. His brother was always the cynic, always the downer. "I mean…we can't just give up. We can't just let Mumm-Ra _win_."

"Maybe we should have." Tygra jerked around at Lion-O's words and hit his arm.

"Don't say that! Lion-O, you've never been a quitter-"

"And I've always been a failure. Tygra, just think for a second. Dad might still be alive if we teamed up with Mumm-Ra. Instead all of us challenged him and Dad was killed. Then we…then _I_…went for Thundrillium when Mumm-Ra tried to block it. Now look where we are." He gestured helplessly to the room. "What do we have?"

Tygra growled. "Lion-O, just shut up! You're tired and upset, but you're talking like a nut."

"Well that's perfectly normal for me, isn't it?" Lion-O's voice rose and he gestured again. "Look! We have officials coming tomorrow that are going to see all this garbage! It's all finished! Heck, you always warned me it wouldn't work! Why aren't you happy? You were right." His voice lowered and his eyes burned. "I failed again. Mumm-Ra won."

To this he heard no reply. Tygra just looked over the chaos and hesitantly touched his back. "Not yet. Look, you do tend to screw up. But you haven't done half-bad until this point. So maybe we can swing this. Let's see what Pumyra and Bengali think; they're still in the office. I'll call them, and the police should be here any time."

Lion-O was just tired. Everything he'd tried for, every last bit of his dream, was dust.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to be back in Tretierra with the Cleras and Panthro. At the end of the day he was a young, inexperienced boss, and Lion-O fought back the tears as he considered the impossibility of getting another permit and spending the next forty years putting up with Mumm-Ra and struggling against the superior might.

_I'll call them tomorrow morning. I can't wake them up right now._

It was just so hard to understand how easily it had all been destroyed. Lion-O put both paws to his face and breathed into them, realizing they were clammy and shaking. "I don't know if I can drive right now. Will you drop me off at home after we meet the police?" he whispered. He felt like he had at the eighth grade dance, covered in food and hiding in the bathroom on a teacher's cell phone, begging Dad to come get him early because he was so embarrassed, so upset, so wanting to get away.

"Yeah. I guess." Tygra didn't seem to understand. He was upset because the business had been assaulted, and that made him angry. But this wasn't his work that had been crushed. This wasn't Tygra's greatest aspiration that had been wrecked.

This wasn't _his_ dream that had been brought to nothing.

Lion-O imagined Cheetara standing beside him. _This isn't over. You'll figure something out. You always do. Tomorrow will be better._

He didn't know if he believed the image in his mind or not. But he was so tired, so numb, that he lowered his arms and turned around. Listlessly he nudged Vultaire with a toe. "What do we do with him?"

"Leave him. He's out cold, and the police will want to know what happened to him," Tygra said in disgust. Lion-O shrugged and started the trek to the elevator with his brother right behind, eyes aching every time he closed them.

* * *

><p>Tygra had never been overly protective of his younger brother. But he didn't have to be overly protective to be really, really angry.<p>

He called Pumyra's cell phone and filled her in on the elevator ride down, and when they started to cross the lobby, he watched Lion-O apprehensively. His brother was silent and looked haggard, fur wilting. In all the years Tygra had known his brother, he had always been sickeningly obstinate in his hope for the future and belief that tomorrow might bring something better. He'd never given up on anyone or anything.

But there was a lost, vacant exhaustion in the lines on his face now. The stress lines furrowed deep and his eyes were red from sleepless nights. "This just seems hopeless because you're exhausted."

Lion-O didn't even bother looking at him. Tygra snorted. "Oh, come on. I know your Thundrillium is gone, but maybe we can get another permit in a couple of years. Don't act like this is the end of the world."

To this Lion-O lifted his head. "The board will never allow it again. Even if we can legally get it, they'll say it's another waste of time."

Tygra had not considered this. "Well…" he tried, rubbing the back of his neck. Nothing else came because most of what came to his mind was irritated scolding about all of the ways this could have been prevented and even he knew that would be a mistake. "Just suck it up. We don't have time for you to freak out."

The look he got was not frightened. No, it was dark and miserable. Tygra felt like he'd seen that face a thousand times before in the years before this and realized that he had; Lion-O had looked that way to every showing up and besting, every gloat and competition. "I'm not. I just want to go home."

"We'll talk to the police and go from there. Maybe."

Lion-O walked beside him until they reached the middle of the lobby and then he fell behind a few paces. "Why don't I wait in here? I need to sit down…think."

"It's not a good time to get lazy," Tygra said stupidly. Lion-O had been working day and night for days; was it any wonder that he was so tired? But his words came without thinking. They always had when it came to his lazy little brother. His automatic responses had been trained to be clever and barbed, not gentle and uplifting. He was deadly and intelligent, and to speak otherwise was not in him. Or was it?

"Oh, I don't know. Nighttime seems a good enough time to doze to me."

Tygra turned around. That wasn't Lion-O, or even Vultaire. It was a reddish-orange jackal in a t-shirt and jeans, ears cocked toward them. He was leaning on the wall of the lobby, right beside a bench. "Tygra and Lion-O Rey?" He tilted his head jauntily, seemingly benign. "I've been sent to give one more punishment for all the trouble you've been causing. You've been naughty boys."

Tygra saw the jackal shift, but it didn't register what he was doing until one long arm folded in his direction and he saw something shiny in the paw. He dimly understood it was a little gun, and that it was pointed at himself.

And then something slammed into the jackal's side, just as there was a bang, and he slid down the wall when the brown blur hurtled out of nowhere. But he was more distracted by something heavy grabbing him around the waist and pushing him down, covering him.

Someone screamed a curse word and Tygra blinked under the weight. It was his brother, red mane stuck in his face, that had knocked him down and covered him, but he turned his head and saw Pumyra, skirt torn, grabbing the jackal's head and bringing up her body and then her knee in the kind of kick that required precision and body strength, ramming it into the stranger's face. He went down cross-eyed, and the only thing Tygra heard him say was, "I _missed_," as if he'd thrown a dart awry.

And then time sped up again and Tygra pushed Lion-O off. "What…what the heck just happened?" he demanded. Pumyra's leg was bloody, probably from the jackal's now-broken nose, and she was shaking with adrenaline. She looked at him, pupils dilated, and he looked down. There was blood on his shirt. Wet blood.

"I…we came over to help…and I saw his gun…I just…"

Pumyra shook her head, running tight claws through her mane. "That was…so stupid."

He examined himself, wondering where the bullet was. But he felt no pain, no point where there was a break in his skin. There wasn't even a tear in his clothes. Perhaps it was a little scratch and Pumyra had saved his life. Tygra didn't know if shock meant numbness, but-

"Lion-O!" Bengali had been outside, staring through the glass door – Pumyra would stash him there of course – but his face was suddenly twisted with fear. Tygra looked at his brother, who was still sitting on his knees, holding his side. The source of the blood became visible as Lion-O took his paw away from his waist and the line on his palm was dark, rich, smearing.

He blinked. Lion-O looked up at him, looking like he had spilled juice on his shirt and expected to be reprimanded. Then his brother crumpled across his lap.

Bengali's feet pounded on the tile and he slammed down onto his knees beside Tygra, but Pumyra yelled, "Don't touch him! Let me see."

Her anger made Bengali stop, shivering all over. Tygra's mind was empty as he watched her come over and tear Lion-O's shirt further to inspect the wound. He saw a scratch, about four inches along Lion-O's side. A sheet of blood was running slowly down, and Pumyra was instantly tearing more of the shirt and applying pressure to the wound. "We need an ambulance. Tell them he's been shot. He's conscious but bleeding."

Bengali delved into Tygra's pocket when it took him longer than a second to start trying to find his phone, and the cub dialed 911. Tygra felt useless as Pumyra tied the cloth in place with a long strip of knotted black fabric. Lion-O's shirt was in tatters by now and his brother was lying on his good side, head in Bengali's lap. He was blinking but not really looking at anything. Pumyra suddenly seemed paler with the ebony coloring; her woman's suit jacket had been used to bind the wound as well. It was strong fabric to hold the absorbent shirt in place even as it darkened with blood.

The creamy fur along his stomach was smudged where Pumyra had wrapped the cloth, and Tygra heard Bengali telling the responder where they were, what had happened. But all he could do was watch Lion-O's chest expand and contract, rise and fall. He was breathing like a frightened cub, like he'd fallen off the swing and was trying to get his breath back.

Tygra touched Lion-O's face, feeling stunned. Lion-O looked at him, irises roving to meet his. He'd never seen that fright in those blue eyes before.

_Lion-O had pushed him out of the way. Lion-O had taken a bullet. It had missed but barely. It had been meant for him. Lion-O took it. It barely missed. It _didn't _miss. _

And then Tygra's mind started working again and he could talk again. "Lion-O. Lion-O, say something. Don't pass out on me. Stupid…that was…stupid…"

Lion-O's nostrils flared as he tried to breathe a little deeper and Bengali stroked his mane. "It's okay. They're coming. They were already on their way for the break in. The bullet scratched you, but it didn't hit anything. You'll be okay." Bengali's raspy, soft voice seemed to do what Tygra's could not. Lion-O's breathing eased, which scared Tygra until he realized it was because it wasn't as hard to breathe when he was calming down. "It's okay," Bengali said, and Lion-O's gaze flicked to him.

"Tygra." To hear Lion-O talk somehow released the tight coil of panic in Tygra's chest. "Did…did it hit you?"

He blinked and blinked again, whole body electric. "No. No, you got it."

Lion-O looked relieved, and his head rested under Bengali's paw. The fear was gone and Tygra knew then that the terror had been for _him. _Pumyra looked back at the jackal. "Don't move." Tygra saw something shining in her paw and realized that she'd picked up the gun and was carrying it with her.

"You shouldn't tamper with evidence," he called.

She glanced at him. "So I should leave it right by his paw for if he wakes up?"

"Never mind…"

Pumyra searched the prone body and discovered no fewer than two extra guns and three knives hidden on his person. Tygra heard sirens and turned his head, and the red and blue lights outside flashed across their faces. Siame's voice stammered outside and Tygra remembered they had left him out there. Lion-O tried to lift his head and Bengali put a paw on his mane to prevent it.

When the police officers saw Lion-O and the blood beside him, one headed back out and returned with a couple of paramedics. Lion-O shook his head when they knelt on either side of him, inspecting his wound and then shifting him to a stretcher. "Sit still, Mr. Rey. Moving more than necessary could cause tearing and more damage."

He was still then, and Tygra followed the stretcher. "Is he going to be all right?"

"Sir, if you want to accompany him to the hospital, please get in and let us take care of this. The wound is mild for a gun, but we need to get him to the ER as soon as we can," one said. He didn't sound afraid or nervous, and Tygra spared a glance back toward the police.

"That jackal is the one that shot him. He…I think he was aiming for me. My brother pushed me down. Pumyra, give them the gun." She gave it up with a sharp shiver, and went to stand with Bengali who was already being questioned. "And…there's another criminal in the top floor lab. Vultaire Rapax." One of the officers was writing everything he said down. "He destroyed our research facility. And the Thundrillium we were using in our research."

Bengali stopped and looked at him in horror. "It's gone? He wrecked it?"

He didn't reply, fixing his eyes on the burnt orange fur. Tygra wanted to kill the jackal. He wanted to rip his skin off and tear his face into pieces. He wanted to use the gun on its owner, blowing his brains out. The hate in him ran black and thick, and it was only climbing into the ambulance and seeing his brother sigh that convinced him not to turn back and commit murder.

_It could have been Dad all over. I could have lost him._

The realization hit him so hard in the chest that the wind was knocked out and his mind stopped rushing, stagnating for a long minute. It had been a flurry of motion and movement and too many different thoughts to keep track of, but now it was deafeningly silent.

_I could have died. And Lion-O could have. Lion-O came close._

_And then I'd be all alone._

He was left with this as the ambulance doors shut and the siren blared softly over his head, and his brother shut his eyes and grimaced with pain.

* * *

><p>Little did Lion-O know it, but Berbio's was open later nowadays because of longer daylight hours and milder temperatures. In fact, this particular evening it was open much later; there had been a block party for the area and Berbio's had been chosen to provide refreshment by the planners. Even late in the evening there were people buying snacks and murmuring with something like spring fever as the frost got less and less. Jaga and the kittens had helped out and enjoyed the festivities and headed home when Kat and Kit started showing dangerous interest in the sugary treats available. Cheetara, on the other paw, opted to remain and help the berbils clean up.<p>

Funnily enough, so had Panthro. Cheetara forced herself not to laugh when Panthro allowed Bebo to ride on his head as he swept. "Bebo is king of world," the tiny berbil declared.

Cheetara gathered up paper plates and plastic cups, wiped down counters and helped Bella lift larger objects. It was about nine when most of the people had cleared out and they had restored Berbio's to a semblance of order.

"Berbils make much money and make many people smile. Good evening," Bill said, hugging Bella and spinning her. Cheetara smiled at the sight.

She was in a bit of a better mood lately. Lion-O had told her that the researchers had gotten a lot done, and even if Thundrillium didn't turn up enough interest, it would at least open up more time when he had no deadline for a couple weeks. He had promised he would visit in the next month and make up for her lackluster birthday. The idea that he would be back – back _home _– was enough to cheer her.

And maybe she could get him not to worry about the company for a while. Because even though he tried to hide it in his calls, he was worried all the time and sounded frazzled. It would feel good just to joke and smile and crack up like they used to. Just like last year…

"For all help berbil friends have given, berbils would like to give nice new dessert. Sample and take home to family," Bella interrupted. "Or classes," she continued when Panthro opened his mouth. "Will not take no for answer!"

Cheetara smiled at Bill, who held up a tiny finger. "Robear Bill get Cheetara complimentary Candyfruit Cake. It like fruitcake…only good. Not yucky." He rolled back behind the counter and Cheetara glanced at Panthro, who was still being hugged by Bebo. He grunted at her expression.

"I think it's nice. I don't think berbils would take to someone unless they were kind at heart," Cheetara said. Panthro rolled his eyes and glanced at the television installed behind the counter. It had been put there a month ago for the sake of being informed during emergencies, and keeping up with highly important sporting events. It was on a news channel right now. Cheetara looked at it and groaned; Lynxana grinned at her from the screen. The success of PENN had exploded with Thunder Enterprises and its newsworthy doings. It was even being shown in Tretierra and around the country. The reward for the sleazy doings was positively sickening.

But Lynxana had kept her word, surprisingly enough. And as of late her reporting had gotten a little softer, a little less critical. Cheetara wanted to throw things at the television at some of the e-mails sent in about Lion-O – what was it with people and hating those that financially were successful? Was it jealousy? He had no choice in any of it, morons – and she would have turned it off if it were her own television.

The black and white cat beside her – Sylvestir Stallion, what a name – was being told something. He leaned over and nodded, looking serious. Cheetara didn't really listen until she heard Lion-O mentioned.

Bill had returned and handed her a bag with the boxed cake within, but she reached over him and the counter in order to turn it up. Sylvestir's face did not bode well.

"And folks, we've just received a breaking news update. The rumor is true; Lion-O Rey has been rushed to the hospital because of a bullet wound in his side."

Cheetara dropped the carryout bag. Panthro jerked his head so swiftly that he nearly knocked Bebo off. And Bebo made a high-pitched sound like that of a car screeching in the street.

"WHAT?" Lynxana openly yelled, making Sylvestir jump. He stared at her, blinking before replying.

"…Ah, well, we have reports that Lion-O has been admitted to the emergency room of Pantherle Hospital. Apparently a gunman opened fire on him and his brother Tygra Rey. Tygra Rey wasn't hurt, but Lion-O was shot and is being treated as we speak. Police have taken the gunman – a jackal named Kaynar Sicar – into custody along with a vulture named Vultaire Rapax who apparently ruined some of the research Thunder Enterprises was working on. We'll keep you updated as the situation unfolds."

Sylvestir shook his head. "It seems like the Reys keep facing trouble, doesn't it?"

Lynxana was staring at the camera vacantly. "Uh…Lynxana? Lynxana? Er…Zanny?" As if frozen, she just kept staring. "Okay…we're going to cut to our cameramen at the hospital. Let's see how things are going there," Sylvestir said.

The screen showed for about ten seconds. Two police officers were in front of it, pushing the cameraman away amidst protests. When the scene switched back to the newsroom, Lynxana was gone and Sylvestir looked nervous. "It seems as if Lynxana has, ah…gone. So for right now we're going to a commercial. Stay tuned for our next update."

Cheetara turned from the counter and the spilled food to run, barely hearing Panthro call after her. Everything was dim and the sound of her heart in her ears was nearly deafening.

_Lion-O's been shot._

She was sprinting and her shoulders hurt where she grazed them on people and buildings. She should have worn a long-sleeved shirt. Her mouth was sealed but her heart was pouring prayers, her eyes hot as she thought of _her _Lion-O bleeding somewhere in a hospital where she was not, possibly getting stitched up and receiving transfusions, or worse...

The thought both killed her and made her want to scream. Someone wanted to take him away from them? Hate was something she did not generally welcome in her heart, but the blood in her was hot and under her fear boiled rage.

_Please. Please let him be all right._

The clinic exploded into view, oxygen burning her chest as she ran through the front door, scaring Jaga out of the way of the door as she entered, shattering the glass pane in the door as she went. "Cheetara! What-?"

"Lion-O's been shot!" Jaga was always quick on the uptake but it took him a minute to follow, pupils dark and face lined. He showed signs of questioning but she was gone a whirl of blond mane.

Cheetara turned on the television and wondered if she ought to call down to Pantherle. But if she did, who would she call? She flipped through the channels to PENN once more and as Sylvestir Stallion came through she heard Kat complain as he entered, "Aw, I hate listening to that guy. He's such a meanie head-"

"Sh!" Cheetara had never shushed either kitten so harshly, and his expression changed to one of hurt as his sister darted in.

"What's up, Cheetara?"

In response she pointed to the television. Sylvestir was reading from something. "And from the report it would seem that the bullet missed any vitals and only grazed his side. Lion-O Rey will require stitches, but he was conscious before the doctors put him under. He is expected to make a full recovery, though due to blood loss he will likely remain in the hospital for a couple of days for monitoring."

Cheetara's heart began to slow, easing out of the drum beat and back toward a softer thump. "Thank God…thank _God_…" she whispered. And then she slumped to the floor and felt Kit come up close behind her and wrap her arms around her neck.

"Cheetara…Lion-O got shot?" Kit's eyes were wide, and Cheetara struggled to rally herself; the kittens needed her to keep it together.

"Yes. I…I heard about it at Berbio's, but…a commercial came on and I knew I had to tell you guys. I…I panicked."

Jaga put his paw on her back and drew her into his arms. It was so comforting and warm that Cheetara nearly cried. Two more warm sets of arms found her sides and Kat said, even with a pale face, "He's okay. The jerk head said he's okay."

"Do we have Tygra's number?" Kit asked. "I'll bet he's at the hospital with Lion-O."

The sensibility of the kittens never ceased to amaze her. Cheetara inhaled deeply, telling herself that Lion-O was all right, and said, "Check Lion-O's e-mail; he sent us one from work once that has a list of contacts for the higher ups, and I think Tygra's number might be on there."

Kit ran to the computer in the front of the building – it was the only one they had – and got into Cheetara's e-mail. Cheetara, as she was calming down a little more by now, realized that was weird. "How did you know my-?"

"It's 'Lion-OKitKatbarjaguar,'" Kit said without looking up. Cheetara had the presence to blush.

Searching through the e-mail server, Kit found the archived messages in the folder where they put Lion-O's messages. "Let's see, 'CEO of Thunder Enterprises,' blah blah blah…hey, here, 'Established Board Member Tygra Rey.'" Kit wheeled her chair to the lobby phone, nearly running over her brother's toe. He whisked his tail impatiently as she started dialing. "Come on Tygra; you'd better have your phone on!"

* * *

><p><em>Hospitals stank like cleaner and bad food.<em>

_They had been there all day, and Tygra wasn't like Lion-O; he couldn't just sit there and pretend his fingers were little people going on adventures. He was smart enough to realize things were really wrong. Lion-O had been reassured by Daddy's presence, by Tygra's. With the family together, Lion-O didn't fear._

_But Tygra did. And into the night as the evening thickened and people left, he grew more afraid._

_Claudus came out of Mom's room and called them to him. Lion-O bounded up first but it was Tygra that Claudus opened an arm for first. This appeased his temper at being made to wait all day. "Tygra…Lion-O…Mommy wants to see you both. She's not feeling well, so you both have to be very quiet and good."_

_He nodded. Lion-O peeped around Dad's side and, spotting Leola, smiled and went to the bed, climbing up the side to sit beside her. Tygra entered the room feeling small and dirty in the white. Mom had tubes in her nose and in her arms, and he was scared to touch them. Lion-O was fearless and just found a place to snuggle beside her where there was room._

"_My boys. Come on over here." She smiled and ruffled Lion-O's mane. He kissed her cheek – a bare spot on her tired, wilted face – and Tygra settled for letting Claudus lift him and sit him on her other side._

"_Mommy, when are we going home?" Lion-O asked. "Didn't the medicine make you feel better?"_

_She let Tygra lie on her side, listening to her body shift and beat. Even that seemed tired. "Honey, Mommy is going to be taking a trip."_

"_Oh. Where? Are you going someplace nice?" Lion-O asked. Tygra just listened. He had a faint, dark suspicion, and if he just buried his face in Mom's side he wouldn't have to meet it or realize it completely._

"_Yes. But I'm going to be gone for a very long time. So I wanted to give you both some things. I wanted to wait for your birthdays but…well, I figure now is a good time." Claudus handed her two boxes, placing one in front of Lion-O and the other in front of Tygra. Tygra looked away from his, tightening his claws on her sheets. Her paw rested in his mane, stroking it back._

"_Lion-O, why don't you open yours first?" He obediently took the lid off and looked inside. Tygra glanced up and saw happiness on his face; it was a brown teddy bear, soft and new with shiny eyes and a carefully stitched smile. "I made him myself. You remember I took sewing classes? I wanted to make you both something special. I figured you and he could have lots of adventures."_

"_He's the best bear ever," Lion-O stated. He studied it carefully and added, "His name is Doofle. Because he reminds me of poofy things and doodles."_

_Mom laughed. "That's a wonderful name. 'Doofle.'"_

"_I'll take good care of him, Mommy." Lion-O cuddled against her and asked, "What did you make Tygra?"_

_He didn't care about knowing. He didn't want the present. Not if it meant what he thought it meant._

"_Well, he's told me he's too big for toys, so I've made him something every cat needs." She opened it for him and Tygra felt something soft against his fur. He looked up and took it. "It's his very own blanket. You know how he likes to sit in blankets when he reads. And I embroidered his name and a special message on it."_

_His name had been stitched with golden ribbons with blue around it and Tygra didn't dare to look at the message. He took it and folded it up and put it back in the box with care. "Mom, where are you going? And why do you have to go?"_

_She sighed. "It's hard to pull the fur over your eyes. Tygra…Mommy's going to heaven. Maybe in a few days, maybe today."_

_If she had slapped him and told him she hated him he couldn't have felt greater pain. He bit the inside of his lips, trying to keep from crying. But he bit too hard and whimpered from his teeth digging in. Lion-O looked at Mom and seemed to drink this in._

"_You're going to heaven? Why?"_

_Why. Wasn't that the question? Why did she have to die? Why did she get sick? Tygra did not learn until years later that theologians and philosophers had written life works on the subject. And he didn't really care. Because it was _his _question right then, and what a bunch of old dead guys thought about it didn't matter._

_Leola moved the tubes aside enough to kiss both boys. Tygra felt like curling up and dying himself. Realizing this, she shifted him so he was in her lap. Lion-O allowed this, even though it was probably odd to him. He was usually the crying baby comforted on her knees while Tygra got the honor of being the big boy sitting up beside her and holding her paw. "I'm not sure. I suppose God needs me for something up there. Maybe he's decided it's time for me to see _my _Mommy."_

_Lion-O continued digesting this. Tygra just didn't understand and he didn't want to. It was selfish, but he didn't care if Mommy got to see her Mommy just yet because _they _needed her _more_. Lion-O then nodded. "Maybe. Are you going for a visit?"_

"_Probably not. I'm probably going to stay. But then, that's not so bad. I get to wait for all of you, and I'll get to show you around one day. Won't that be lovely? Maybe we'll all have houses together up there."_

_Tygra sobbed. He didn't want to die, he didn't want Mommy to die, and he didn't want Dad to die. He didn't want Lion-O to die either, but Lion-O was so young and floaty and dreamy that him dying just didn't seem possible. People like Lion-O just kind of faded into storybooks. Real people in the real world were the ones that died and were gone._

"…_I'll miss you Mommy." Lion-O buried himself in her neck, and Tygra realized that maybe his little brother wasn't quite so dreamy as he'd expected._

"_I'll miss you too," he added, looking at her with hurt. Perhaps she could stay with them if she felt guilty enough. But her face seemed so sad that he couldn't keep looking at her._

_For a while they just stayed there. It was quiet and at last Lion-O fell asleep, and then Mom talked with him about looking after Lion-O._

* * *

><p>How he'd failed in that.<p>

Tygra wasn't allowed in the room while Lion-O was being examined and stitched up. He was checked over and aside from a distinctly angry temperament – the nurses didn't take it personally, seeing as being shot at generally wrecked one's mood for the day – he was fine.

Completely fine. Totally fine. Not a mark on him.

Pumyra had blood on her leg from Kaynar, so she had to be cleaned up and they analyzed it to make sure it wasn't disease-ridden. She was unmoved, totally calm even when she stripped off her torn skirt and stood in front of him half indecent. He didn't even notice. His libido didn't exist. The room was blurry.

The only thing at that moment that was really registering was the fact that he could have been shot and he hadn't been. Because Saint Freaking Lion-O had taken a bullet for him.

Sure, maybe his calculations were off. Maybe if they'd held still neither of them would have been hurt at all. But the fact that Lion-O had knowingly and willingly pushed him out of the way of a bullet and seemed to take it so easily…

In all his life, Tygra had sort of accepted the fact that Lion-O was his brother and cared about him, but it had never really been something that had any bearing. He cared about Lion-O, even if he showed it horribly and was a pretty terrible person about it. But nobody in his life had ever tried to take a bullet for him.

He'd never felt like he "owed" so much. The shock of his brother's blood on his paws had delved deeper than just the stain that was no longer present, scrubbed away by nurses and scalding water.

In spite of all they'd ever been through and all he'd ever said, in spite of everything, Lion-O had tried to save his life. Even if it would have cost him his own. Every mean word, every spiteful blow, every racist and cruel remark…it all amounted to nothing. Lion-O did not hate him. Lion-O still saw him as brother, against all the darkness he'd brought. Lion-O saw him as worth dying for.

Tygra, if he was honest with himself, was not sure he could die for someone else. Probably not if the person were Lion-O. Even so, even with their history, Lion-O had done possibly the noblest and stupidest thing a person could ever do for another.

This was foolish. Attempting to die for Tygra had been wrong and threw off their relationship. To change how they were was like altering the relationship of the sun and skin. One shone and burnt the other. It hadn't exactly been on purpose, but it was the way things had been for as long as he could remember. How was Tygra supposed to be mad at Lion-O and continue sniping at him when he owed him his life?

_Why in world would I _want _to? Why?_

Bengali sat in the room with Pumyra, staring vacantly at his knees and tapping them with his long fingers. He glanced up every now and then, but blushed when he realized his sister was still in a state of partial undress and looked down again. "Miss, it would seem that you are perfectly all right. I sent one of the other nurses to get some pants for you," the nurse said softly. Pumyra nodded and when another cat brought in a pair of sweatpants she slipped them on. "We much prefer to provide clothing rather than bandages," one said kindly.

"I prefer that too," Pumyra said. "Do you know if Mr. Rey is all right?"

Bengali sat up stiffly. Tygra lifted his chin off his paw. The white cat looked at them all and then turned to the door. "The doctor should be in any moment. Don't worry; she's one of the best. Dr. Hipocra has worked here for fifty years and nobody knows surgery like her."

Still, Bengali's fingers were twitchy. "He's going to be okay then?" he asked dumbly.

"He'll be right as rain when that morphine kicks in and he gets some proper sleep." Tygra's ear cocked at the smooth, calculated voice. It flowed like water and an elderly jaguar prowled in on pale feet. She had a long white mane and palest gold coat, bleached from age, but she had dark purple eyes and – strangely – a hint of purple to her mane. Just the slightest tint, as if she'd dyed it a long time ago and had never gotten rid of it all. Her face was wrinkled and clever, and her smock was spotless. Looking at Bengali her sharp eyes softened. "Honey, you need a blanket? You look ready to drop."

He shook his head fiercely. "I'm fine. Um…who are you?"

"Dr. Hipocra. But call me Jaguara. I get no pleasure when people call me doctor." She turned her attention to Tygra. "You're Tygra Rey?" The softness rearranged into a curt, intelligent tone.

He nodded. "How many stitches did he need?"

"Twenty. It was a long scratch and he lost some blood, but you're both very fortunate. He didn't even need a transfusion. Give him a few days' rest and good meals and he'll be fine..and a prescription of antibiotics to make sure no infections set in." She paused. "Come on, he's still awake. I figured you'd want to see for yourself."

Bengali shot to his feet and Tygra was not much slower. Pumyra tied the string around her waist so the baggy pants would stay up and followed them into the white hall and careful noise of the hospital at night. There were fewer people and the smell of cleaners and mops was a little thicker, but it was the same as any hospital he'd ever been in. There were sick people, family members in chairs, and really bad tasting food.

Tygra remembered bringing Mom here and hating it because she didn't like the smell of alcohol and cleaner. There had been an old woman in the room nearby that had screamed until she got attention because she had gone to the bathroom on herself.

No. Hospitals were full of hateful, miserable memories. Jaguara led them to a secluded, quiet room and held the door for them. He and Bengali reached the threshold at the same time and he glared at the cub. Bengali's lower lip jutted out, but he allowed Tygra to enter first.

Lion-O's eyes were open and he looked up when Tygra said his name. The hospital scrubs on him were white, the sheets were white, but Lion-O's fur was rumpled and dark against them. Bengali tiptoed around Tygra and drew up to Lion-O's side. Lion-O managed a slightly loopy smile and asked, "Are you okay, guys?"

"Uh-huh. Do your stitches hurt?" Lion-O shook his head and tugged his sheets down a bit and showed Bengali the bandages. They were tight and clean around his waist and Bengali sighed, giving him a ginger hug, avoiding the spot.

"I've gotta tell you, when you've got morphine in you, you don't have a care in the world," Lion-O mumbled. Bengali just rested his face in Lion-O's mane for a second and then shifted back so Tygra could approach. "Hey."

"Hi." Tygra seated himself by Lion-O, pulling one of the chairs close. "The police have got Kaynar – that's the jackal – and Vultaire in custody. They're taking pictures of all the damage Vultaire did, and we'll be able to start cleanup in a few days. Pumyra tried to get an extension on our time, but…well, we gave it our best shot. No one can say you didn't do your best."

Lion-O blinked and smiled vaguely. "S'okay. I don't care. Everyone's okay…Thundrillium's not that important."

That was the morphine talking. Lion-O was drifting in a cloud of medication and relaxed nothing. Tygra watched his brother lean against the pillows and bit the tip of his tongue. Pumyra gestured to Bengali who reluctantly went with her into the hall.

"You might be looking at a day or two in the hospital, Hon. Just to be safe. I'll be back in an hour to see how you've settled." Jaguara gave his mane a careful stroke and left, Tygra sitting beside his brother's bed with a sudden sense of loss.

Lion-O's eyes were muzzy as the morphine took effect and he lay still against the sheets and pillow. "…So. You'll be okay." Tygra didn't recognize his own voice. It was soft, small. His brother nodded dreamily. "Lion-O…why did you do that? Why did you risk your life for me?"

For a minute Lion-O's eyes were back above his half-closed eyelids and Tygra figured he'd drifted off. Then his eyes focused poorly again and he muttered, "I didn't exactly have much time to think. But you have…to ask?"

"Beyond all that 'selfless martyr' crap you've got running around in your head I mean."

Lion-O shifted and Tygra reached forward to settle his head on the pillow better. "Already lost Dad. Didn't wanna lose you too. Duh. Not a big deal…"

"It _is _a big deal! You…that…if that bullet had been a few inches higher-!"

"It might've hit you. If I didn't push you." Tygra wanted to kick the bed but knew that the doctor might return with wrath in her eyes.

"But you…stupid, if you…"

Words weren't coming. Tygra couldn't adequately form a sentence. He stood up and dragged one paw over his face, feeling a little sick. "Lion-O, it's kind of a big deal when you try to take a bullet for somebody."

Lion-O looked up at him blankly. "That's what family does. So it's not a big deal."

To this surety Tygra had no response. He could only stare.

Lion-O then looked at the ceiling. "'M I supposed to see spots?"

Tygra felt so nauseous he was nearly sick. "Yeah. I mean, you can. Get some sleep okay? The sooner you heal up the sooner you can get out of the hospital."

Lion-O shut his eyes. "Yeah…gotta make it to the meeting tomorrow…gotta explain to the government people…what went wrong. Thundrillium's not that important, but I still wish we could've…"

"Don't worry, I'll handle that-" Tygra began, but Lion-O had already drifted off. His leaned back comfortably and his mane stuck out all around his head on the white case.

It brought back a visit to the hospital long ago that had ended very unhappily, and Tygra found that it was a little hard to figure out who he was looking at because _whiskers_ Lion-O looked like Mom. And in a hospital…

He found himself cussing under his breath, sinking into a chair by the bed and holding his head. "You're stupid. You're the biggest idiot in the whole world. What if you had died? Then I would've lost _you_. Sure I almost hate you sometimes, but that doesn't mean I want you dead."

"Has anyone ever told you that you have issues expressing affection to your brother?" He looked up and hissed, hackles rising.

"You don't even have the decency to wait until he gets out of the hospital? Sorry, but he's not in any kind of condition for an interview right now."

Lynxana frowned at him. "I'm not here for an interview." Pumyra appeared behind her, brows dangerous, and Lynxana turned around when she felt hot breath on the back of her neck. She lifted a brow and gave Pumyra a condescending look at the combination of a work blouse and sweat pants. "Hello."

"What are you doing here if you're not here to be a pest?" Pumyra snapped.

"That's none of your business, coffee girl." Lynxana's face reddened just a tad and Pumyra's nostrils flared.

"Be careful who you insult, Catus. More people know about your doings than you'd expect, and with all the police I've been talking to this evening," Pumyra began.

Tygra held up a paw. Somehow the girls looked ready to tear into each other within a minute of starting a conversation, and for once the idea of two admittedly attractive women fighting each other seemed less than useful. "Look, whatever. Tell your news crew to wait a couple weeks before interviewing Lion-O. We've got bigger problems than appeasing you for now."

Lynxana crossed her arms. "I'm not here for an interview…although you said two weeks? Any way we could cut that to one?" His eyes narrowed. "Fine, fine, I had to try. I heard Lion-O got shot and I kind of…sort of…wanted to check on him."

"Yeah, he's your golden goose after all. Anything happens to him and after a year or two of mourning on the news you'll be in a fix," Pumyra said frostily. But Lynxana didn't seem angered by this. Just…a little shamed.

"That's true. But I also just wanted to see if the kid was okay. I mean it's partly business but…well, he's not the crappiest guy I ever met. And somebody tried to shoot him. I just wanted to…"

She trailed off. "Okay, never mind. I don't know why I came. Interview next week, fine. Whatever." She turned on her heel and flipped her mane. "By the way, there's this great thing called therapy, Tygra Rey. I think you could use a few months' worth," she added snidely. "I can see why no sane girl sticks with you." He snarled after her and she left. Bengali poked his head into the room after the sound of her claws on the floor vanished and blinked.

"What was that about? She didn't even ask any news questions."

"Who cares? Slimy witch," Pumyra said.

Tygra decided to ignore Lynxana's visit, as Pumyra's opinion was fairly close to his own. Whatever reason the woman had was none of his business. But as Lion-O started to snore, he stepped past Bengali to stand in the hall. "You don't need to be here right now. You should both go home."

"Ha." Pumyra followed him and then seemed to consider it. "You might as well go with us. Deal with the police. I don't think anyone's going to come after Lion-O in a crowded hospital. And you're not much good here yourself."

Bengali peeked in on Lion-O one more time, slipping through the door to turn his light off and tuck the sheets over him a little better. "I want to go back to the research building. Do you think the police will let us in?"

Tygra was about to say no – they would be looking over the crime scene – but his phone started buzzing in his pocket. He was tempted not to check it, but thinking it might be the police again he answered the call in the hall, ducking the dirty glance of a nurse as she pointed to a, "No cell phones please!" sign on the wall. "Hello?"

"Tygra? Is that you?" Kit's voice came through shrill and fast. "Are you okay? Who was shooting at you guys? Is Lion-O awake? Is he gonna need a cast?"

Tygra did not recall giving out his phone number to any of them, not even Cheetara. He'd forgotten. He cringed inwardly at this stunningly bone-headed move. "Ah…yes it's me, yes I'm okay…some jackal named Kaynar Sicar and Lion-O is zonked on morphine right now. He took twenty stitches and they've bandaged him up. His side will be sore but he should be okay. How did you hear about it?"

A collective sigh of relief rushed through the phone like a warm puff of air in the winter. "The news. It said he got shot."

He heard the door clang and a deep male voice speaking. "Who is that?"

"Hi Panthro! Whoa, you look tired. Did ya run here?" Kit sounded much calmer now. "That's Panthro. He's a friend of ours and Lion-O's. So it's all gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. Well, physically. The generators have been wrecked, but considering we could've been killed-"

"What?" The deeply-voiced male, Panthro, had apparently taken the phone. "Look, who is this? Did you say Lion-O is okay? And what's this about generators?"

"Who are _you _to be asking?" Tygra snapped.

"I'm a friend of his! Weren't ya listening to the little lady?"

"_Excuse me._" Cheetara's voice silenced them and when Tygra heard her again she was on the phone. "What happened to the generators? And are you sure you're okay? You sound really upset."

Tygra slumped into the nearest seat, having made his way to the cafeteria. Pumyra strode close to him and he realized she was listening in. The smell of sick people eating late dinners and reheated potatoes didn't appeal, but it was devoid of irritated looks. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just a little shocked, I guess. I mean it's not every day someone tries to kill you."

_And the younger brother you've been razzing your whole life ends up saving your skin._ His conscience gave him a sucker punch at this point and he winced. "And I don't know how much Lion-O has told you, but we agreed to work with one of Mumm-Ra's researchers, and he broke our Thundrillium and the generator he helped build. I mean, we've got one generator that's partly done, but nothing to power it with."

"That…that rotten cheater!" Cheetara was angry but Panthro growled.

"Vultaire? Sounds like a saboteur. Is anything salvageable?"

"That one generator might be, since it would have been in the back." That Cheetara knew this surprised him only for a second. Of course Lion-O would tell her everything. "Does Lion-O know about it all? Did you say he was asleep?"

"Yeah." The pang of hurt in her voice – a fear of losing someone important – mixed with a wrath that flared golden and bright made him realize that she sounded like she was miserable and madder than she'd ever been. "He knows. He basically gave up on fixing anything before he got shot. Vultaire ground our Thundrillium to dust and threw it out the window. There's nothing we can use for the experiment tomorrow."

"Now hang on. How much would you need?" Panthro demanded.

"I have no idea, Lion-O was the one who…I guess the piece they were using was the size of my fist. Maybe bigger. I don't know about the unfinished generator."

"Then don't count yourselves out yet. If it's Mumm-Ra behind the gunman – and I'd bet my arms he is – then this ain't an accident. If he wants to wreck Thunder Enterprises, he's going to deal with me. I happen to have a sample of Thundrillium that Lion-O sent me." Panthro sounded firm and he was getting his breath.

Tygra paused for a second. "You…have a sample of Thundrillium?"

"You bet. I've broken some of it off to experiment on but there's a good-sized chunk left I can power up. When do you need it down there?"

"About noon tomorrow. But…the generator isn't finished. And I don't know how to finish it." But Tygra's heart was racing. This was an avenue. There might be a way.

"Look, if you can find a way for me to get down there, I'll work through the night and do what I can. I ain't gonna let any whisker-flipping cheater ruin what Lion-O's been working so hard on! I wouldn't have it if it weren't for him."

Pumyra was still standing beside him, listening to the conversation. "Who is this? And how is he supposed to get down here?"

Tygra tapped his claws on his phone. "I'm thinking," he muttered. If Panthro was as good as Lion-O always said, and he had Thundrillium…of course he'd have to get him on a plane in the next hour, and they'd have to get the element on board, and then the police would have to let him into the building, but he could swing all those. Tygra had a way with people, and power gave his will more sway. "Okay…Pumyra, I'm going to need you to look up the number to Tretierra's main airline. Can you go to the office and look it up?"

She nodded. Tygra's mind was ablaze with planning. "Okay, go get the Thundrillium and bring it to the airport. There's only the one, isn't there?"

Panthro grunted in assent. "Yeah, I can get there within an hour."

"Okay, get some tools you might need. Our labs are a mess right now but I'll try to round up what we have. And I'll try to convince airline security to let you through, but I'm not sure if it'll work."

"I've done my share of government work. Drop my name; it might be easier than you think." The sound of the phone being taken interrupted him and Tygra heard Kat next.

"Panthro gets to go to Pantherle? Lucky! You'll tell Lion-O hi for us, won't you?"

Tygra heard that and bit his lip. He peered back into the hospital bed and looked at his brother, sleeping. _After what he did, do I have any other choice?_ he wondered.

"Kat, Kit? Would you guys and Cheetara and Jaga like to come? It won't be any harder to get you down here on a plane with him." The thought of bringing Cheetara here and seeing Lion-O's face made his stomach roil, but he would have had to been dull as a rock to miss the desire they had to come.

And when he heard Cheetara say, "You can do that?" so breathlessly Tygra knew he'd made the right decision. "Oh…we'd love that, but Kat, Kit, we don't have your birth certificates or anything-"

"Cheetara!" Kit yelled. Tygra cringed and waved apologetically when another pair of passing women stared at him. "You need to get down there and see Lion-O right now! I don't care if we have to wait to see him, but you go without us if you have to! I'm tired of you only worrying about us! Worry about yourself and him for once and get your tail down there!"

It was uncomfortably quiet. "Sorry," Kit said, voice squirmy with embarrassment. Tygra rewound his thoughts to what Cheetara had said.

"Hey, if I know anything, it's adoption issues." Lion-O had told him about the problem before and it struck all too close to home for him. If his biological father Javan had not named Claudus his godfather and Claudus hadn't had any lawyers, it was very possible that he would have ended up in foster care when Javan died. He blinked a little hard with the memory. "Look, I'll give them a story. Maybe I can look up the number of the agency Dad used for me." _Like Lion-O asked me to do three months ago_, he recalled in humiliation."I think that you guys coming here would be better for Lion-O than anything. Trust me, _I'll _get you down here in spite of the paperwork problems. Lion-O's not quite sneaky enough to pull it off on his own."

"Really? You mean it? Yay! Tygra, you're the best!" Kat cheered. "We're going to Pantherle! We're going to Pantherle!"

Tygra couldn't help but feel a sappy, tender warmth at their delight. Kit had squealed and he heard Jaga in the background saying, "Cheetara, you go on. I'll join you all in a few days. Lion-O needs you all down there now and I'll get someone to watch the clinic before I go."

"Okay, okay," he interrupted. "Panthro, go get the Thundrillium and get to the airport. Pumyra will send me the number and I'll arrange for the tickets and explain the glowing rock. You guys hurry and get ready to come down here. Pack up some clothes and listen to Cheetara, and we'll see you soon," he said.

"Of course. Thank you Tygra. This…this means more than you know," Cheetara said. Thinking of the way Lion-O had pined for Cheetara, Tygra couldn't help but feel that he knew better than she expected. "Is there anything we can do to help out down there?"

"Whatever Panthro tells you. I'll bring you over to the hospital in the morning when Lion-O wakes up, but tonight we've got to get this generator running. Call me when you're at the airport and hopefully I'll have everything ready."

"All right. Thank you." He ended the call and slid his phone into his pocket. Pumyra was watching him as she followed in his footsteps, keeping up with the taller tigers without a problem.

"What?" he asked, feeling somewhat irritated by her stare.

"Nothing. It's just…this is probably the nicest thing for Lion-O that you've ever done," she said evenly. Tygra thought about that as they left, raking through the years with his mind and realizing that she was quite right. And it was frankly one of the _only _nice things he'd ever done for his brother.

Tygra felt something unpleasant as he started the car, still thinking of the way Lion-O had thrown himself down without even a thought to protect him. Lion-O spread niceness and all that other garbage everywhere he went. Even to Tygra, when they weren't at each other like hornets.

Instead of feeling self-satisfied by the kind deed he was trying to put together, Tygra felt sick. Because other than this, he could not think of even one purely selfless deed he had ever done for his brother. It had always been motivated by guilt or appearances. This time…maybe it still was. It was for the company's sake that Lion-O had to do well. Maybe he still didn't care.

Shame – something he was very unaccustomed to – hit him like a weight. He responded by driving faster than he ought to and getting to Thunder Enterprises in half the time it should have taken.

* * *

><p>Panthro hated planes. He was broad and big and muscular, and the seats were not made to hold such big people. He also felt like he might hit Cheetara with his elbow if he wasn't careful. She was so slim and small compared to him, sitting by the window and staring down at the lights of the cities below.<p>

There had, miraculously, been a plane leaving for Pantherle within the hour. Panthro had spoken to one of the cats at the desk when they arrived and – true to his expectations – the name 'Panthro Fides' helped get things done. He had a long record of patriotism behind him, both military and engineering, and considering the element was not an unstable chemical but was – for all they knew – a shiny rock, they were willing to allow him on the plane with it(1). Cheetara and the kittens were even easier to get on board; the kittens explained, with tears in their eyes, "Our best friend is hurt real bad, and we wanna go see him! But we forgot our papers 'n stuff. Can't we go with our sister?" They hugged Cheetara and mewled and the attendant agreed. After all, she was twenty-one and the airline had received a considerable sum from a highly respected company to pay for all their tickets, along with an official (if not necessarily completely honest) explanation about the situation. Panthro didn't know how Tygra had swung that but supposed that his overachieving tendencies were useful.

The kittens were excited, whispering and chattering in the seats behind himself and Cheetara. "I can't wait to see Lion-O and Tygra and Snarf! It's been forever. And I'll bet Panthro can fix the generator easy-peasy." Kat's confidence made him cross his arms and feel his face redden.

"Yeah, same here. I just want to see everybody again. Think we can help out?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

Every hour that slipped by was a frustration, but it was only a couple of them before the plane began to descend. Kat tapped the back of Panthro's seat. "Is it supposed to do that?"

"Yeah. We're landing. Listen to the intercom and don't get up until they tell you to." Kat grinned and shook his sister's arm.

"We're here! Just a little longer!" She wriggled her toes and bounced in her seat a little.

Cheetara, still staring out the window, was taking in the sight of Pantherle. "This is his home. And that building…is that Thunder Enterprises?"

He looked through the glass and watched the large building slide beneath them. It was mostly dark, being closed at night, and it looked like a large onyx stone cut perfectly into a rectangle. Little flecks of golden light reflected from other buildings and he nodded. "That's it. Lion-O's office would be on the top floor if he's using Claudus'. And…that building across from it would be their research building." He pointed and Cheetara gazed at the massive structures. "They've got more buildings in other cities, but a lot of the design work and business goes on here."

"…It's so weird." she said finally. "I mean, I know he's got a huge responsibility, and he's a CEO, but I didn't really understand the scope of it. How big this is. It's no wonder he had so much to do and couldn't come see us."

Panthro held on to the armrest. "If we make this experiment a success, it'll end up being exponentially bigger. If all this work comes together, he could end up being the mastermind of something world changing."

Cheetara smiled faintly. "I'd expect nothing less when it comes to Lion-O."

* * *

><p>"Son of a-"<p>

Pumyra glanced around and made sure Bengali was out of the room. She then finished cursing and slammed a paw on the computer on her desk. Tygra looked up from Lion-O's desk, looking through his folder and notes for anything useful about the generator. The police were willing to allow a few people in to work if they didn't touch anything else, and Bengali had already gone over there. "What's wrong? Aren't the security files coming up?"

"There are no tapes and no digital recording. Someone shut down our security cameras." Pumyra shivered with hatred. "There's no evidence of the generator working. It's all been wiped out."

Ordinarily this would have made Tygra start pitching a fit and Lion-O would have had to try to put up with it. Instead, Tygra just returned his attention to what he'd found. "It doesn't matter. The police believe us and there's enough circumstantial evidence to show that Vultaire did it. And Kaynar…I get the feeling he's been a wanted jackal for a long time."

Pumyra shut off her computer with disgust. "Fine. I just thought that maybe if the government officials saw that they had made progress, they might give us more time."

"A good idea. But I think we've only got tonight." Tygra looked at his phone and opened it in irritation. "I told him to call me as soon as he arrived. I need to head over; they'll be here soon."

"Sooner than you think." Tygra spotted a dark cat – fully as big as Grune – striding toward him into the office. "There were some cabs, and I wasn't in the mood to wait." He wore black pants and a gray button up shirt, but he looked more suited for military camo. He held out a metal box. "Thundrillium. I need you to tell those police to let me into the building. I ain't got all night."

"Tygra!" Something attacked his middle and then another something attacked his side, and he looked down into the furry, beaming faces of Wilykat and Wilykit. "We missed you soooo much! It's been so long! Merry late Christmas!"

He gathered his wits enough to kneel and give them both tentative hugs, grunting when they threw their arms around his neck. They were warm and smelled kind of like candy. "Yeah…Merry late Christmas. I'm sorry I missed it."

And he found that he really was, if it meant he would have received a greeting like this. The shame returned and he released the kittens, standing up and looking to Panthro.

"Come with me. We've got one guy over there already, but he's more of a mathematician than an engineer." He couldn't help but peer around Panthro and felt a mixture of happiness and sulkiness when he saw Cheetara behind him. But she approached and gave him a small, friendly hug.

"Thank you. We've all been worried about you guys." Tygra felt that guilt again and firmly nodded.

"I know. I'll take you over tomorrow right after the meeting. The doctor said it might take a while for that morphine to wear off anyway. He'll be glad to see all of you."

Pumyra coughed slightly. "Perhaps we can talk on the way over?" She was then mobbed by the kittens, who rushed to her with questions.

"Hey, are you a secretary?"

"Is your name Pumyra? Lion-O told us you're really tough."

"Can you really break a guy's neck?"

"Why don't your shirt and pants match?"

She stared at them. "Again, questions on the way." She put a paw to their shoulders and guided them back toward the elevator, Panthro following with Tygra and Cheetara. "It's nearly one in the morning. We have eleven hours to get this working." She paused. "Maybe I have spare skirt in my car…"

Tygra noticed that the kittens both had knapsacks over their shoulders and Cheetara had one suitcase. Panthro also had a case rolling along behind him. Cheetara noticed his glance and said, "Well, we needed to have a few changes of clothes and a couple other things."

"Here, the office is secure. Leave it in the corner and I'll lock the door." Panthro opted to hang on to his when the kittens and Cheetara left their minor luggage, and with that they headed back to the elevator.

The street was much quieter than it would have been a couple hours before, and it was easy to navigate across it. The kittens marveled at the new buildings and held on to Tygra's paws, pestering him about going to see Lion-O immediately.

"Guys, he's unconscious. I'll take you there when the doctor calls me and says he's waking up. Don't worry, it won't be too long," he assured them. "Right now we've got to help Panthro with the generator."

Perhaps the police officers at the front were just kindly, but Tygra also got the idea that they didn't want to tangle with Panthro. He hurried them up the elevator to the top floor amidst quiet complaints from the kittens. "Aw…can't we go wait for him to wake up?"

"Not right now. If we don't finish this, all of Lion-O's work is for nothing. We're down to the wire." Tygra put a paw on the elevator door so they could pile out and head into the lab. There were two police officers in there watching over the room and Tygra rubbed the back of his neck as Pumyra explained the situation to them as well.

Panthro gave Vultaire's broken generator a long look and turned to Tygra. "Please tell me this pile of junk isn't what I have to salvage."

"No, it's in this room." He pointed and noticed that Bengali had already unlocked the door and gone inside. "Bengali, what's going on in there?"

"Not much. I'm looking at the plans, but…but I don't know what to do with everything," the cub called helplessly. The kittens' ears perked and they darted through the doorway. "Um…hello. Who are you?"

Panthro's perturbed expression shifted to one of interest when he saw the other generator. It was slightly unfinished but built better – or so Tygra supposed – and Bengali had the blueprints on a table. His mane stood on end from stressful ruffling and he was looking down at the kittens.

"I'm Wilykat. Friends call me Kat. You can too. And this is my sister, Wilykit. She's younger than me." Kit scowled at him.

"Only by like four minutes." She smiled up at Bengali. "Are you Bengali? Lion-O told us about in his e-mails. Only he didn't mention you're…tall."

He nodded. "That's me. How old are you?"

"Nine. Are you in college too?"

Blushing, Bengali shook his head. "Uh-uh. I'm only in sixth grade. I'm twelve." Her eyes grew huge.

"Wow. But you're so much bigger than us. Were your parents giant or something?"

Sensing that the conversation was going to head off into the realm of children and their fancies, Tygra interrupted. "Look, we've got a schedule. You guys can hang out later; Panthro, what do you think?"

He was circling the machine like an artist would prowl around a sculpture, pausing every now and then to look at something in detail. "It's good. Darn good. I can work with this. And it's bigger than I expected…allows for a bigger piece to be used…can't test it without more Thundrillium but I think…"

He put a couple of claws to his chin. "Yeah. We can do this. Lemme see the blueprints." Bengali brought them to him with something like awe in his dark blue eyes. "Huh. Whoever worked on these did a good job."

Bengali's pink face only darkened. "It was the research team with Lion-O, but…um, I helped put it together too. I did the math."

Panthro looked over the equations and lifted an eyebrow. "…Impressive."

Bengali looked ready to faint. "You're a real engineer…Lion-O told me about you…this is so cool."

Looking a little awkward, Panthro cleared his throat and handed the blueprints back. "More cubs. All right. It ain't gonna be easy, but we can swing this. Tygra, I'm gonna give you a list of things I'll need. Any hardware store should have 'em, and maybe you can get some in this building."

He nodded. "All right." Pumyra tapped his shoulder.

"I'm coming with you. There's no telling what will happen if Mumm-Ra figures out what we're doing. I'm no bodyguard but sticking together is probably smartest."

Kat and Kit gave each other a curious, slightly mischievous look. Tygra shrugged. "Sure. Whatever."

Panthro tapped Bengali on the head. "You'll be my assistant for the evening. Cheetara, I don't know what you know about tools and stuff, but you can help me too and…ah…please help with the kids," he added quietly, jerking his chin toward the kittens.

"Of course. But Tygra, you _will _tell us when Lion-O wakes up?" she asked persistently. He nodded and she seemed appeased. "All right. I will do what I can."

"Hey, what about us?" Kat demanded. He put his paws on his hips and Kit followed suit. "We wanna help."

"You two can look after Snarf. We have to get him and tell him what happened. He's probably worried," Bengali said suddenly. Tygra clapped a paw to his forehead.

"Snarf. Cripes, I forgot about him. He's going to pitch a fit. Okay, we'll get him while we're out and about." The situation was not as hopeless as before, but this was still going to be difficult. Tygra noticed they all looked to him and wondered if this was what Lion-O felt like every day with employees, consumers and people depending on him from every direction. Was this what it was like to be a boss? Everybody waiting for your say-so and okay, and if you messed up it wasn't only you that lived with the consequences? It was a burden if it was, and there were easily thousands of employees at Thunder Enterprises. He had many more eyes watching his every move.

Tygra took a breath. Stress tended to get to him. It was easy to gripe at Lion-O and complain about his decisions, but with the spotlight on him it was hard to think. "Okay. Let's do this. We only have one chance."

There was nothing to do but make the most of the time they had. And looking at the ring of determined faces, Tygra knew they all meant to.

* * *

><p>The morphine had worn off a couple hours ago, judging by the way his side and head hurt.<p>

Lion-O stared up at the pale ceiling, hearing the sound of phones ringing and people speaking in the hall. He smacked his lips; they were dry and his tongue tasted sour. He put a paw to his face, raking it down to figure out if he could feel. He could and turned his head, looking down and peering beneath his scrub to see the pristine bandages.

The generators were gone. The Thundrillium was gone. He looked around for Tygra and saw no one. _Probably dealing with the fallout from my mess,_ Lion-O thought miserably. There was a clock on the wall. Nearly eleven…if he left now he could get to the meeting. None of this was Tygra's fault; he shouldn't have to face the consequences of Lion-O's failure on his own.

He slowly sat up, wondering if this would stress his stitches. There was no extra pain and he stood up, feet warm from having been under the sheets all night. The cool ground felt nice and he dared to stretch a bit.

His clothes were a wreck last night, covered in blood. Not to mention he didn't know where they were. What would he wear?

Lion-O shrugged. He walked to the doorway and, feeling a little embarrassed by the fact that his boxers were completely visible from behind, he hid himself a little and called, "Excuse me."

Two nurses stopped in the hall and one approached. She was a gecko, pale green and rather short. "Yes sir?" She had a tiny lisp and looked a bit nervous.

"Ah…I was wondering if it would be possible for me to borrow some clothes. You see, I just had stitches last night, but I have something important to get to." It was high on his list of stupid things in his history, but Lion-O knew it had only been a scratch with the bullet; there was no reason to miss this meeting. And from the sound of things he would have gotten out today or tomorrow anyway…

"I suppose. What was your doctor's name?"

Lion-O shook his head. "I don't remember. My last name is Rey, if that helps."

The nurse left and returned saying he could check out if he wanted, carrying some black slacks and a white shirt with her. Surprised by how easy this was, Lion-O didn't question it. She told him to check back in later in the week and Lion-O accepted this willingly.

Neither of them knew that there was a patient nearby with the last name of "Ray" that was actually supposed to head home that morning.

At any rate, fifteen minutes found Lion-O on a bus, sore but thinking. He was a little hurt that Tygra had not at least left him a note saying he would be by later or something. Maybe he was _really _busy trying to clean up the problems. Lion-O didn't have time to head home for a suit, so he chose to go to Thunder Enterprises instead. He was pretty sure Tygra had a comb he could use, and he'd figure out some way to make himself halfway decent. Being shot should lower their expectations for personal appearance.

He climbed off the bus and headed into Thunder Enterprises and was surprised when very few people looked up. Then he passed a window and caught sight of himself in the glass; he looked scruffy and tired, and his clothes were not at all like the suit he usually wore. It was possible that they didn't recognize him. It was almost funny how nice the near anonymity felt.

Pumyra was in his office, running around and collecting files. "All right, it's all set." She had a phone cradled against her shoulder. "So you think it's going to work? Ninety percent sure…it's good enough for me. Yes, okay. I'm heading over; I just had to get some work for the police. They wanted to see what expenses we'd taken on the solar panels to get an idea of how much Vultaire did in damage. Right, heading over-"

She stopped. She'd caught sight of Lion-O and he waved lightly. The phone fell from her shoulder and she only managed to tighten her fingers on the files to keep them together. "Mr. R-Rey. What…what are you doing here?"

"Making the meeting. Do you know if Tygra has a comb in his office?" he asked. Her face looked like somebody had danced by naked and she wasn't sure she'd seen them. Actually she looked like she hadn't slept all night and somebody had danced by naked. "I didn't have time to go home and change, but I figure they won't care considering I just got stitches last night. Not like it'll make much difference."

Pumyra shut her mouth and blinked rapidly. "Lion-O, you ought to be at the hospital. Dr. Jaguara said she'd have the day shift call when you woke up."

"A nurse looked on the list and said I could go. I feel a little sore, but I'll live." He traipsed to Tygra's office, noting that the desert landscape looked much better in there with the darker themed furniture and Tygra's elegant tastes. He hunted through the drawers before he found a little kit of comb, claw filers, and similar things. "He's always groomed to the nines," Lion-O observed. Pumyra had followed him and was stammering.

"Lion-O…I mean Mr. Rey…you-I-the meeting…but you…"

He combed his mane and decided that it looked reasonable in the reflection in the polished desk. Giving the comb a careful cleaning, he made sure the stray red strands were gone before replacing it in Tygra's desk.

"Mr. Rey! I insist you head back to the hospital, that's where you're supposed to be! And besides, everything is all planned out, we have a chance."

Lion-O shrugged. "I guess. Hey, is Tygra over at the research building?"

"Well yes, but I was just getting ready to head over. You see, the officials are going to meet us there, and I-"

"They're early?" he asked.

"Only a couple of minutes. We're prepared. Honestly, why don't you stay here, and I'll send over-"

"No. Tygra shouldn't have to face up to my failure. It's not his fault this fell through." Lion-O was nervous but in some way things had been put in perspective; Tygra was alive. He was alive. Things could have been worse. Lion-O would face this down and…well, whatever came, came.

"But Lion-O-sorry-Mr. Rey, you don't understand." But Lion-O was already heading out and the phone started to ring again. She hastily dove for it and accepted the call. "Thunder Enterprises, Pumyra Verus speaking. Yeah, no kidding Lion-O's not in the hospital, he's walking out of his office right now! What do you mean a 'mix-up?' How do you mix-up someone who needed to stay and someone who didn't?"

Lion-O felt a little gross for it, but as he had no toothbrush he snagged some gum from his office and chewed it on the way down. A small group of suited officials stood by the glass doors to the research building, a mixture of cats and one or two dogs and lizards. They were speaking in undertone together when Lion-O approached and several of them seemed shocked. "Mr. Rey…this is a surprise. We heard you were…well…"

"Shot. Yes, I was. The bullet only scratched me though, so I decided to come out and meet you gentlemen. And lady," he added, noting there was a female lizard standing in a skirt. She nodded, and the others all glanced between their neighbor and Lion-O.

"That's very noble of you. But I assure you, if you're unwell…"

"No. I don't suppose you were informed of what happened to our company last night?" Lion-O asked.

There was an uncomfortable shuffling in the group as he passed in front of him and opened the door. "We heard there was a break in and that much of your research was destroyed. That is regrettable, but even so, we have received too many complaints and concerns about Thundrillium to allow you to continue research unless some kind of benefit has come up."

"Oh really?" Lion-O asked. Nobody had complained to the company, the more logical place to go. It wasn't easy to pile thirteen people into an elevator but they managed it. It was awkward to speak in the crammed space so the person speaking continued when the door opened to the top floor. Lion-O's stomach tightened when he thought of the mess that would meet their eyes.

_I just feel so helpless. There's nothing I can do._

"Yes. And we've found a few scientists that believe there might be harmful effects to Thundrillium." Lion-O had not heard this and he entered the lab with a silent eye roll.

"If you're talking about that Plundarran study, it's a crock. The way we use it, Thundrillium has no ill effects whatsoever."

Lion-O's heart thundered and he lifted his chin. Coming toward them with the stride of a general and the liveliness of a fire was Panthro Fides, broader and realer than Lion-O could remember. Energy flooded his limbs and his jaw dropped.

But if Panthro felt any joy he didn't show it. "Mr. Rey, you ought to have stayed at the hospital. I know you're excited about the project we just finished, but really…"

"Uh…project…?" Lion-O asked softly. His knees felt ready to buckle at the presence of someone from Tretierra, stunned when he felt the warmth of Panthro's arm over his shoulders.

"Gotta love that morphine. The generator that wasn't destroyed. I put in some work this morning and I think we have it all set up."

Lion-O looked up at him and the friendly lightness on his professor's face and said, "You…did? But…Thundrillium…"

"I brought that spare sample you've been having me study independently. My research has gone pretty well lately. I would've talked to you more about it, but I wasn't quiet able to get ahold of you before the incident."

He extended a paw and the main cat accepted it. "I didn't realize Mr. Rey had hired an independent researcher."

"Yeah. He does that. My name is Panthro Fides, and if you're all ready to see our experiment, we've worked quite a bit in the past few hours to finish up." He gestured for the group to follow him and Lion-O didn't know what to do as he was guided by the shoulders into the back lab. But Panthro did lower his head and mutter, "What the heck are you doing here? I thought the blasted doctor was going to call us when you woke up."

Lion-O just inhaled the smell of his cologne and felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. "Sorry. They said I could go, and I wanted to make the meeting. Nobody told me to stay."

Panthro smacked his forehead. "And you thought catching a meeting was more important than making sure you were recovering and getting some rest?"

"…Kind of?"

The bigger cat just lifted his head. "We're gonna have a talk after this. Just act like you know what's going on, all right?"

Lion-O nodded and let his head brush Panthro's arm. "It's good to see you. You came down here just to help?"

Panthro gruffly made a noise that meant, "If you have to be mushy about it, sure, why not?" Lion-O couldn't help but smile. "Folks, allow me the pleasure of showing you the machine that is the first step in changing the world." Panthro put a paw out and Lion-O followed his gesture.

His heart soared into his mouth. The machine had been nearly four feet tall before but now it stood at Panthro's height easily, and he could see all the little adjustments that only someone like Panthro could have made. There was an opening in the front that he presumed was for a chunk of Thundrillium, and his eyes followed the pale, beautiful metal through a cloudy film.

It was like something out of his most geeky dreams. Bengali peeped out from behind it and beamed. "We're all ready, I believe."

He walked around the generator, gave Lion-O a second look and said, "What are you doing here?"

Lion-O shrugged a shoulder. "I wanted to make the meeting."

Bengali eyed him and then said, "Okay." And that was that. "You'll have to excuse Mr. Tygra Rey. He went to the hospital a little earlier this morning."

Lion-O frowned. "Why?"

"I think he was going to visit you with the others. He figured you'd be waking up soon even though they didn't call. Um…oh. Yeah, that's not so good."

Before Lion-O could ask, "What others?" Panthro patted the side of the machine. Everyone's attention fixed on it and the people all took in a breath. Bengali hugged Lion-O's side gently around the bandages and his eyes sparked with excitement. "Mr. Panthro is so smart. He's awesome," he whispered. Lion-O nodded and again felt the sting of tears when Panthro took a metal box and hefted out a chunk of Thundrillium. It had a faint glow, waiting to be activated, and in that moment it was more beautiful than a diamond of the same size could ever have been.

"This element is nearly unknown. It breaks easily when you strike it, melts at a comparatively low temperature, and yet is safe enough to serve as a paper weight. The Plundarran piece you mentioned has been proven to be a distortion of the facts. The disproval of the hypotheses put forward has simply not been publicized well enough, as tends to happen in the scientific world. The radioactive matter released by an active piece of Thundrillium is uncertain, but we have monitored nothing dangerous about it so far. More time to research – say, a few more months – would no doubt turn up plenty," he said. Lion-O's ear flicked at the uncomfortable coughs and remembered that yes, they had taken half of the time away.

But Panthro just turned and placed the beautiful stone in the machine and closed a cover over it. "Give me a moment." Lion-O watched him pace around the machine and adjust knobs, check wires, and turn switches. Curiously, long cords ran from the generator into the wall. It hadn't been that way before. "All right. Kid," he said, and it took Lion-O a moment to realize he was referring to Bengali, who popped forward obediently. "You know what to do."

With something like hero worship in his eyes, Bengali looked at Panthro and Lion-O and turned one of the larger switches on the machine. The room instantly went dark and Lion-O nearly threw up when he couldn't see and the government officials made noises of protest. But then there was the click of another switch being thrown.

The Thundrillium chunk began to glow with a soft, quiet pink light. It was visible through the translucent cover and it cast enough light over them that everyone could see. It looked like a mystical gem out of a fantasy, glittering with energy and something that seemed almost otherworldly.

The lights came back on, hurting his eyes and making him shut them. "Why did that happen?" one of the dogs asked. "The lights I mean."

Panthro grinned crookedly. "Because with this little baby active, there's enough energy to power an entire block. Right now this building is running on the output."

It took a while for Lion-O to absorb that. His brain felt a little slow and when he finally drank the statement in, the only thing he could think was, _Wait. Right now? On the prototype?_

Lion-O looked up at the lights as if he expected the light to suddenly have a pinker appearance. "Really? It…wow."

_Wow._ Breathlessness sapped any other words. Panthro looked at the wide eyes in the room and his grin only deepened. "Thundrillium has to receive a small shock to register an output, but once it does its electrons react in such a way that, with a generator, the energy can be harnessed. And can it ever ."

"Wait. That little piece can power an entire block?" demanded one of the cats. He was red and brown, and had bright green eyes. They were suspicious like a snake's.

"Do you know how to read these screens?" Panthro asked, not combatively. The cat's face flushed and he shook his head. "Get someone you trust who can. Or heck, let us wire the generator into the city's power supplies and we'll give this machine a real test."

Lion-O just stared. The entire building. An entire block. And this was only a prototype. Panthro had worked a miracle. And the only testaments were the lines under his eyes and the way Bengali's head started to droop as the government officials began asking eager, excited questions. Asking _him _questions.

Panthro held up his paws. "Look, Mr. Rey needs his rest. He really shouldn't even be up in my opinion. I happen to know that Mr. Tygra Rey will be back in a little while and will be happy to answer some questions with me."

Lion-O felt faint and he had to hold on to Panthro's arm to stay upright. _They made this. And they're pretending I'm behind it. It wasn't me, it was you guys. You…you made it happen._

"I suppose I just missed it, didn't I?" Tygra entered the door and the inspectors rushed him and began talking and questioning him this time. "Whoa. Ah, could we just have a minute to talk to my brother please? It's been a stressful couple of days. Please, Ms. Verus will take you to the office. We can discuss things there in just a little while."

The small group was agreeable and Pumyra had a rather forced smile on her face as she escorted them out. Tygra amiable expression vanished when they were out the door. "Where the heck did you go? You were supposed to stay at the hospital! Who said you could leave?"

"Lion-O! You've got some explaining to do!"

Kat – how was he here? – had slipped in the door behind him and pelted toward Lion-O, skidding to a halt on his heels with his tail flicking. "If you didn't have stitches I'd kick your tail! You were s'posed to be at the hospital and we were gonna surprise you!"

The kitten then gingerly latched on to his waist and Lion-O felt another soft kitten press to his other side. Wilykit's violet and pink mane was ruffled as she rubbed her cheek against his pocket. "We missed you. We got scared when they said you'd left."

Lion-O stared. And stared some more. He gently tugged them away so he could kneel and look them in their faces, drinking in the shape of their chins, the realness of their eyes and twitchy little noses and tails.

They were _here_. It was impossible, but they _were_.

He folded them in his arms and they wrapped his neck in their hugs and he mumbled, "I missed you too. I…I don't…how are you here?"

Kit sniffed, but Kat didn't seem to be experiencing the same overwhelming shock that the other two were. He just snuggled in carefully and said, "We saw that you'd been shot on the news with that smarmy lynx lady. Then we called Tygra and he brought us and Panthro down here because Panthro said he could fix the generator and we were dying to see you. We woulda come to see you sooner if we knew you were up! You were supposed to be zonked a little longer."

Lion-O just grinned into the kittens' manes and swallowed back tears when the wound in his side protested him tightening his hug. "I can't believe it…Tygra brought you here…?"

But Kit now seemed annoyed. "That doctor! She was supposed to have somebody call us as soon as you woke up! Boy, Cheetara will be so mad you're up and around! You've got some explaining to do."

Lion-O's pain vanished. As did most of the strength in his knees and arms. He pulled back from them, paws still resting on their heads, and he struggled to find his lungs. "Did you just say 'Cheetara?'"

Kat nodded and met the eyes of someone beyond him. "She did too say she'd call, didn't she?"

He released the kittens and turned his head. And Lion-O couldn't remember a moment that felt better than the one where he met Cheetara's eyes for the first time in months.

His stitches stopped hurting and the tiredness fell away. She looked so…there wasn't a word. She was wearing jeans and a yellow t-shirt that said, "Berbio's Snacks for the Block Party!" and her mane was a little rumpled. She didn't have any lipstick on and eyes seemed tired for the instant it took to fix on his.

She was beautiful and real and right _here_. The tears that had kept attacking him returned in full force, raging down his face and blurring her into a golden blob of light like a friendly lamp against a skyscraper's window.

He moved forward and then she came running and stopped only short of hitting him. And then she was in his arms and Lion-O was struck by the scents of worry and Berbil candy and something of a hospital. Lion-O delved his fingers into her mane and held her, chin on her shoulder, feeling her shoulder blades tremble.

"You…ding-a-ling. You're supposed to be at the hospital, Lion-O Leo Rey." Her voice was low, shaking, and it was so much better than hearing her through the crackle of cell phone static. He blinked and his eyes cleared as the tears escaped. He pulled his head back enough to look at her, nose to nose, taking in her scolding. And then he couldn't help it; he laughed.

"Don't you laugh, Lion-O! You are in trouble, do you hear me? We head out to the hospital only to find out you're wandering around the city?" she said angrily. But he just shut his eyes and kept laughing.

Cheetara was here! Really here, with the kittens and Panthro! And everything was all right! He couldn't help but cry and laugh at the same time, and he knew her anger was spent when she furrowed her claws into his mane and held him tightly around the shoulders. He wanted to pick her up and whisk her around but knew she would bop him on the arm for straining his side even with her light frame.

"…Don't you ever scare me like that again," Cheetara said at last, and he was drawn out of his happy delirium enough to know that she was still shaking. "First you get shot and then you wander around the city…sometimes I wonder about you."

She kissed his forehead and Lion-O touched her cheek. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you."

Lion-O kissed her cheek and nose and just buried himself in her mane. "I can't believe you're here. Did you come in at night?"

"Yes. Panthro and Bengali fixed up the generator in about ten hours." She looked at them and Bengali twisted his feet a little shyly, Panthro grunting. "Tygra told us what happened and got us down here." She lowered her voice. "Although with the kittens I'm not quite sure that whatever he did was legal."

Tygra lifting one shoulder as he stood by the door. "Eh. Illegal doesn't necessarily mean it's wrong."

Lion-O just looked over at him. "How did you do this? I mean…why?'

Tygra looked irritated. "They were upset and wanted to help. What else was I supposed to do? Besides, the whole company suffers if you fail. So I helped them and us at the same time."

Lion-O shook his head. "Whatever the reason…thank you." He realized then that he was hugging and kissing Cheetara in front of his brother – granted kisses on the nose were not precisely the same as ones on the mouth – and he reluctantly allowed just a little more space between himself and Cheetara.

By this point Cheetara had ducked a little and lifted his shirt. "Lion-O, we're going back to the hospital. Dr. Hipocra was very angry when she heard you'd run off. I think she's coming in when we get you back over there to check you in herself."

Lion-O didn't care if the woman wanted to shave him bald in her fury. The kittens were giggling because he was in the barest bit of trouble and they were finally here. Their presence was a high better than morphine, and he held Cheetara's paw. "I guess I can go back. If you guys are coming with me."

She rolled her eyes. She still seemed shaky but Lion-O realized it was from happiness now. "We're going to make sure you listen to her this time."

"Yeah, and you gotta listen to the doctor or you won't get better. And then you won't be able to give us piggyback rides or show us around, and that'd be so boring!" Kat added, tugging his sleeve.

Pumyra opened the door suddenly. "Hey, were you guys aware that Snarf is out here and is clawing at the door? I think he ran up the stairs."

Kit clapped her paws to her forehead. "Oh, darnit! I knew we were missing somebody in the elevator!" She looked at Lion-O apologetically. "We picked him up a while ago 'cuz Bengali said he didn't know what had happened. Only…yeah."

Snarf entered as a tuft of infuriated hair, yowling and spitting. He ran to Lion-O's feet and smacked his ankle with the soft puff on his tail. Lion-O picked him up and hugged him to his chest. "Sorry buddy. I was out all night. Otherwise I would have called you."

"Snar-ar-arf!" He wiggled until Lion-O handed him over to Cheetara and proceeded to growl. Lion-O looked sheepishly at her.

"He's pretty mad. He says I'm an insensitive owner."

She grinned. "Well as a vet I think that's appalling. But I think he'll get over it. Maybe if he gets some, ah…ham with cheese and mustard." Snarf perked up. "And plays with the kittens in the evening." His tail lifted happily. "And knows that you're okay and being looked after."

Snarf then uncrossed his forelegs and purred again, rubbing his chin over her shirt. Lion-O cast one more look back at the generator. "I can't believe you guys did all this. You pulled off a miracle. You realize that?"

Bengali smiled. "We had to help you somehow."

"You were the one that set it all up. Tygra helped put the plan into actions," Cheetara agreed. Lion-O almost let the words bounce off; as far as he was concerned it was their success. And he was fine with that.

"All right, all right, enough of this heartwarming junk. We've got government folks to talk to. Lion-O, haul your tail down to the hospital. Bengali, take a nap, you're about to fall over. Kids, listen to Cheetara." Panthro then looked at Tygra. "You're standing in for the boss I guess."

Tygra looked a little surprised. "Me?"

Lion-O gave Cheetara a long look before releasing his hold on her fingers. It made him feel like he'd let go of a rail and had to walk down steep stairs. "Tygra, I can stick around to help answer their questions. I mean, you've done so much and it wasn't even your project really."

"Lion-O," Cheetara began. Tygra lifted a paw.

"Look, go back to the hospital. The last thing we need is you getting hurt again. I can handle it."

It was not hard to give in to the temptation to allow Tygra this. Lion-O felt bad for a second, but when the kittens started pushing at the small of his back and Cheetara pulled him by the paw toward the door – complete with Snarf hanging on to her shoulder – all guilt faded.

Everything but happiness faded.

* * *

><p>Kaynar didn't really know what to make of missing for the first time in his life.<p>

He had gone to shooting ranges, spent a little time fighting for Plundarr before sneaking into Thundera to start acting as an assassin – the money was better there – and then starting his own business of weaponry. And from the first moment he picked up a gun he knew it was right in his paws.

It was meant for him like books were for librarians and equations were for mathematicians. The weight and smell felt good and his paws felt complete with the weight. He had shot every target he had ever aimed at, every bottle on the street, every Wingered. It didn't matter who threw something at him or how they tried to distract him. Kaynar Sicar was the deadest shot in the world.

And then he missed. He missed the tiger's heart and hit the lion's side.

If he'd at least hit the tiger it might have been tolerable. But he'd hit Lion-O instead. And Mumm-Ra had been very adamant that harming Lion-O was a big fat no-no because the sheer chaos of not having an heir to take over the company would be just so messy. It was the tiger that had to go because he was calculating and dangerous, and Vultaire just wouldn't stop whining about him.

But dear, oh dear. He'd missed. He had injured Lion-O, and not fatally, which was good for Mumm-Ra but not for his own pride.

It had happened. Kaynar had gone over the hill. In his mind he was washed up and…well, what now? He was to spend the rest of his life in jail being bored and deprived of his beloved weapons.

Oh no. Kaynar Sicar could not tolerate that. Not for a minute.

It wasn't known to many, but Kaynar had a silver filling in a large tooth in the back of his mouth. It was sitting in a cell, waiting for a lawyer to show up, that he was fingering it. He had a tray of food beside him and it made him happy in a way to see that he had a brownie on there. That was terribly sweet. Brownies were one of his favorite foods. It was enough.

_"You can be sure that if you are caught, we'll kill you. That's just how it is. Nothing personal, but we can't have you telling anyone."_ Addicus' words bounced around his skull and he snorted. He probably had a few hours before he died anyway. It would take that long for Addicus or another agent to get down here.

"Nobody tells Kaynar how he's going out. I decide that for myself, thank you very much," he said. He then reached back into his mouth and, with a harsh wrench, pulled out the tooth. It was bloody at the roots and he carefully pried the filling off the tooth and turned it over.

A pill fell into his palm - the only one of its kind. He had made this and hollowed out a tooth and put the filling in for just such an occasion. He cracked the shell around it that protected it from saliva. "I wonder if they'll kill Vulty. Hm." He shrugged. Then he took the glass of water by his tray and put the pill into it. He watched it fizz and disappear, swirling it around.

It would appear as if he'd died of natural causes. The toxins faded in the body. He had worked for a year on this particular one, and he never repeated his designs, ever.

"Sorry, Mumm-Ra, but I'm going on my own time. Good luck; you're going to need it." He finished the brownie, savoring the chocolate. Then he downed the glass of water and proceeded to gaze up at the ceiling.

When the security cats came in with his lawyer, Kaynar Sicar was dead, and he had a little smile on his face as if he'd gone pleasantly in his sleep.

* * *

><p>1 – Keeping in mind that Thundera is, while culturally modeled on North America in some ways, it is not North America and has never been attacked by terrorists on a plane, their security is not quite so strict as ours has been for the past decade or so. Add that to Panthro's reputation and that is the explanation as to why they were willing to let Panthro on the plane with what they believed to be a shiny rock.<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: No. I don't own TC even though I do often fantasize about it. That'd be nice. I could've made Pumyra not abusive. Sorry, but it really upsets me to think about how things like that are just brushed over in cartoons anymore. I mean seriously, what are we trying to tell kids about relationships here? "Boys, your girlfriend might hit you in the face, and that's okay?"

This is the end of this story. Well, this installment anyway. It's been quite a ride and now it's time to bid adieu for a little while. I plan on sequels but it might be a bit of time so I can finish up some other things. So to those that have read all the way through, you have my appreciation. If you were hoping for more you're not out of luck. I just need time to work on the next parts. To those that have encouraged me, you have my thanks. I'm sorry I haven't replied to everyone, but the reviews are all appreciated. It's been a lot of work and time but I'm glad this story has been told and this part draws to a close.

Anyway, enjoy this last bit before I work on other things. LiChee for life, and ThunderCats always.

* * *

><p>"<em>I'd be packing my bags when I need to stay.<em>

_I'd be chasing every breeze that blows my way._

_I'd be building my kingdom just to watch it fade away,_

_It's true;_

_That's me without you."_

_Me Without You, _TobyMac

* * *

><p>Grune opened the door to Mumm-Ra's office and strode in, planting his paws on the dark desk. "I need to talk to you. <em>Now<em>."

Mumm-Ra's eyes glittered as he held up a finger. He was on the phone, nails tight on it. "Yes…I see. This does complicate things. Vultaire failed. You know what to do with him. No, I don't care what was in his contract. He's served his purpose. And Kaynar…? Hm. Saved us some time I suppose. All right Slithe, plan B it is. I told you, this sets us back but not irreparably. Two years or so with Toss Gier's firms and we'll be able to convert enough Thundrillium to-"

Grune snatched the phone out of Mumm-Ra's fingers and slammed it into its cradle on the desk. "Now."

Mumm-Ra's fingers slowly curled into a loose fist and rested on the desk. Grune's chest rose and fell, suit stretching with rage. "What is so important that you have to interrupt my business?"

"A little ape told me that you weren't shooting for Lion-O the other day. Why was Tygra the intended victim?" Grune's voice was low and his claws rested on the polished darkness. The tips started to crack the surface.

Mumm-Ra's dry, bony hand slid in a circle as if in thought. "Ah yes. Your favored protégé."

Grune roared. Mumm-Ra didn't move but his suit rippled under the force, eyes squinting against the noise. "How dare you! I tell you a thousand times just to wait for him to come around and then you pull this stunt? Now he'll never join up with us! The boy could work circles around Slithe and you just try and off him? I ought to-!"

"Finishing that sentence would likely be a mistake." Mumm-Ra slid to his feet, dragging his favored red robe. It hung over his suit comfortably and concealed the awkward shape of his back. He was not shy about it but people tended to cringe and it was more annoying that it was worth. "He has proven to be a problem, as his recent actions have only proven. Lion-O was at his lowest point and because his brother had a sudden epiphany, they're both going to be successful. Not to mention declare exclusive rights on Thundrillium utilization for the next ten years, as per the law…"

"So? You don't have to get anything legally. You're the biggest black market buyer there is," Grune said bluntly. "Tygra is off limits. It's not his fault Claudus has hammered in a little too much garbage. That can be fixed."

"Can it? I think you overestimate his capacity to change." Mumm-Ra's eyelids narrowed around his deadly gaze. "Or perhaps I overestimate your ability…"

"Don't give me that crap. I told you I wanted the kid on with us." Grune strode around the desk and prodded Mumm-Ra's chest with his claw, knocking the wind out of him. "Your word was that we'd get him."

Mumm-Ra's face was suddenly livid, and he raked his claws down Grune's arm. They dug in, serrated from being chipped and cracked with age, and Grune snapped his paw back. "I have allowed you many privileges, but _this _is where the line is drawn, Mr. Verrater," he said softly. "The situation has changed. I saw an opportunity and I took it. Unfortunately my agents failed."

Grune smirked. "Yeah, Kaynar's not such a good shot after all."

Mumm-Ra gave him a look so suddenly frightening – the eyes bulged, sunken as they were, and the lined mouth peeled back in a furious grin of hate – that Grune stepped back in alarm. "Kaynar is dead. He killed himself. But from the sound of things his aim would have been good enough to kill Tygra in an instant if not for interference. Lion-O rescued Tygra at the cost of his own safety, and the puma stopped Kaynar. I could have sworn you thought the boys would abandon each other when the going got tough. You said Tygra was only a few steps away."

Grune jerked his head to the side, fingers curling into fists. "I thought he was. I thought that he'd be smart and abandon ship. And how was I supposed to know Lion-O would come out of his stupor and actually do something?"

"Perhaps familial loyalty plays a stronger role than you expected," Mumm-Ra sneered. "I think Tygra cares more for the 'brat' than you."

Fur bristling, Grune would have struck a lesser being. But Mumm-Ra Ammit shifted his arm back, moving his robe out of the way so he could walk. And he looked like an ancient priest of a dark religion, one with hot idols and cat's blood on altars. "We will leave them alone for now. Take a few years' time to finish. It will be difficult but, as you said, I am a powerful agent on the black market."

Grune watched him, dark, beady eyes following the silent footsteps. "And what of your promise? You've made good on money and power. I can't deny that. But you said we'd get Tygra on board, one way or the other. He's a worthwhile cat, just misguided. And I'm not quite prepared to see him suffer when you finish that experiment of yours."

"You assume you have some way of making sure that I keep my word other than my own goodwill," Mumm-Ra observed. Grune's face grew sour. "I will leave convincing him in your paws. But I was right; Lion-O has proven to be more of a problem than you expected. You said he would crumble easily," he trailed off, lowering his brows.

"I didn't count on all the others showing up."

"Ah, but even before they came he laid the groundwork. And now they will have such power…they will aid so many cats…"

At this Mumm-Ra's voice lowered bitterly. Grune didn't say anything; he was pretty sure the old man was nuts half of the time, lost in memories. "I still think you should've started tried starting Thundrillium as an energy source. Then you'd have a patent on the garbage."

"And allow Thundera to profit so much from _my_ labor? No…no, I know what I'm doing. I have time. I'll allow Lion-O to bear that sin, giving his work for these people." Mumm-Ra dared to peel back the curtain and looked over Tretierra under the sun's glare. He had to drop it after a moment, covering his eyes. "A few years. And we'll be ready. Deal with Tygra yourself. I have other things to worry about, particularly Lion-O. I am going to watch and wait. Perhaps it will be for the best; all eyes will be on them, leaving us to operate behind the scenes."

Grune snarled at him and left, slamming the door behind him as he crossed through the door. Mumm-Ra let his fingertips touch the desk, looking at the lines of his withered skin and the bandages visible beneath the suit's cloth. He pulled back a few wraps and examined his scarred flesh. It hurt when air touched it and he wrapped the soothing cloths back around his wrist. They brought quick relief.

"Lion-O and the rest of these cats have proven to be…unpredictable. That is annoying. And yet, perhaps…interesting."

He smiled. "It's been a long time since I really had to try to get what I want. Rest while you can Mr. Rey. I assure you, no matter how long it takes and how much it costs, _I _will be the victor."

* * *

><p>"I cannot believe we mixed you up with another 'Ray.' If you'd strained yourself and those stitches came out, someone's head would be rolling. Lawsuits have started over less. And you won't even say who messed it up, how very quaint. Of all the bullheaded, boyish-"<p>

Jaguara turned and, after looking at him for a second, sighed. "You're not listening, are you?"

Lion-O dreamily opened his eyes. Cheetara had a paw on his mane and the kittens were watching the doctor with their tails flicking, leaning on the other side of the bed. He was comfortable on the stiff mattress with them nearby. "Hm?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, just let me get at those stitches. Kids move over."

The kittens moved to the other side of the bed and maintained their vigil by Cheetara. "I toldja you'd be in trouble," Kit whispered.

"I never said leaving was smart, just like I thought I should," Lion-O muttered back. She stuck out her tongue at him and he did the same to her. Cheetara flicked his forehead.

"Don't encourage them. They'll be wild all day."

Jaguara examined his side and she began to replace the bandages. "They're all intact. You really need to take it easy the next few days though. That means no business meetings, no stress, none of that. I want you to take a vacation. You've been stressed lately and the calmer you are, the better you'll heal."

A vacation? Now? The idea of having time where he could take Cheetara and the kittens around the town and show them all the best parts of it…

At any other time he would have been dying to get at the Thundrillium, working on it until it was an energy source available to everyone. He would have been consumed with all the amazing, wonderful things he could do with it.

But right now, Cheetara was here. Everyone except Jaga was here in Pantherle, and Cheetara told him that he'd be heading down in the coming weeks. He had a perfect chance to spend time with her and everyone, just like the days in Tretierra. Only there wouldn't be school to distract him. Everything else could wait. So frankly, life was just perfect.

"Ouch." Except when Jaguara prodded his side. She retracted her fingers.

Lion-O sat up when she gestured for him to do so. "I'll take them out next week if you're healing all right. Fill these prescriptions when you leave." She handed them to Lion-O and crossed her arms, one ear cocked back in thought. "Now the only question is whether or not I let you out now or make you wait until tomorrow."

"Aw…lady, can't you let him out now? We've missed him for months!" Kit sat on the side of the bed and Jaguara looked at her, mouth twisted wryly. "We'll make him rest, don't worry. Cheetara's a doctor, sort of."

"Kit, I'm a vet. The main differences being about twelve years of school." Kit's expression grew incredulous.

"Whoa. You'd have to go to school that long?" Jaguara nodded and Kit said, "I'm glad I never wanted to be a doctor."

"It can be frustrating. Especially when people wander off and leave the hospital when they're not supposed to," she said evenly. Lion-O winced and she grunted. "I guess I've drilled in the lesson."

Cheetara draped one arm around Lion-O's shoulders as he leaned against her hip. The rough jean fabric felt nice on his face. "We really will look after him if you send him home. I'm used to it, sort of. This is just the personality type you're dealing with."

"Why do I believe that?" Jaguara asked, violet eyes resting on Cheetara's red ones. "Well…"

Her tongue rested behind her front teeth before she said, "All right. You have to make sure he's rested, that he doesn't get the stitches wet and that he doesn't strain himself while he recovers. Emotionally or physically. And take the full prescription of medication," she added shortly, one claw resting by his nose. "I'm tired of people quitting their antibiotics before they're supposed to; it breeds resistant strains of pathogens."

Kat and Kit mouthed, "Pathogens?" to each other before Kat said, "Thanks lady. Now Lion-O can come home and spend time with us!"

Lion-O tugged his shirt down and Cheetara kissed his forehead. The move surprised him and sent warmth from his face to his fingers, and he hugged her side. "That sounds great," he mumbled. Her fingers traced into his mane and he inhaled; her shirt still smelled like candy and the firm warm of her hip sent stress out of him.

"Yeah. We'll watch movies and play with Snarf and you can show us files and stuff so we can see all the boss stuff you do," Kit added. "Are you going to take a week off? Can you do that?"

"Take two. Just to be sure," Jaguara interjected.

"Yay, two week vacation!" Kat pumped his fists in the air. "This'll be awesome!"

"Keep in mind it's a two week _recovery_," Cheetara corrected. "So we have to take things one step at a time.

Lion-O grinned. He got up and held her paws. "Okay. But I want to make up for missing your birthday. I'll get you guys lunch and then we can go see a movie or something. Whatever you want."

"Hey, we're getting good at roller skating! Can we show you? I didn't pack mine but I can ask Jaga to bring 'em!" Kat said.

"And I wanna see the city! It's so different from Tretierra," Kit continued.

"Like I said, whatever you want."

Lion-O heard Jaguara growl. He coughed awkwardly into his paw. "How about we head back to your apartment, I fix some lunch for everybody, and we put on some movies there while we catch up and set you up on the couch to rest?" Cheetara suggested.

"Oh I like her. She's the brains of the operation, isn't she?" Jaguara asked. She nodded at Cheetara and Lion-O smiled.

"Most definitely." He tightened his grip on Cheetara's fingers and Jaguara herded them out, leading them down to the lobby and having Lion-O sign a few papers. Bengali was sitting in the lobby, jacket looking bulky in the front. He waved and blinked sleepily. The kittens beat the adults to him.

"Lion-O's coming home now. Isn't that cool? And Cheetara says we're gonna make lunch and watch movies. Oh, and if Lion-O does too much and hurts himself he's in big trouble." Kat poked Bengali's jacket. "How'd you gain fifteen pounds in an hour?"

The "fat" in front wiggled. Bengali folded his arms around the gray cloth and Kat's eyes grew huge. "…Are you _pregnant?_"

Bengali snorted. "No, Snarf's in there. He didn't want to wait outside and he wasn't allowed in. And boys don't get pregnant."

"Boy seahorses do," Kit disagreed. "Just not in an hour." She prodded the spot again and Snarf peeked out between the buttons. "Hiya Snarf," she whispered. "Cheetara's making lunch when we get back."

His little mouth curled with delight and when they slipped through the door he popped away from Bengali's stomach like an alien and started rubbing against Cheetara's calves, meowing something that sounded suspiciously like the Hallelujah chorus.

"I still can't cook very well. I mean, it's tolerable but it's nothing like yours," Lion-O told Cheetara. "Ah…we might need to stop by a grocery store. Snarf and I have been surviving on peanut butter sandwiches and instant noodles for the past couple of weeks."

Cheetara shook her head and reached down to pet Snarf. "The veterinarian heart in me breaks. But considering all the work you guys have been doing I guess I understand. How does baked macaroni sound? With a salad to tide everyone over."

Snarf put his little paws together as if in prayer and mewled up to the sky. Lion-O understood him to mean, "Thank you. Thank you _so_ much."

And looking at the lot of them in the sunlight and watching it reflect off of Cheetara's shining mane, he couldn't help but say, "Thank you" as well.

* * *

><p>When he got up the next morning – he had slept on the couch, out like a light with a dose of pain medication at about nine, just as Wilykit finished playing her flute – Lion-O wondered if maybe it had all been a marvelous dream. It didn't feel like a hospital bed he was on but he had to wonder if maybe getting shot had all been a dream and he'd fallen asleep on the couch. But his side hurt, so he decided that much had happened at least.<p>

Something warm moved against his front and he lifted his head from the pillow, amused to see Kit partially draped across his good side, squeezed onto the couch with him. She was hanging on to his t-shirt. Kat was in an armchair, brought out of Dad's room. It was the first time he'd moved anything of Dad's at the apartment. Somehow it didn't hurt, knowing that it was for the kittens. Kat was curled in the seat, head on the armrest, and his feet wiggled as he muttered in his sleep. Lion-O put Kit in his place on the couch and peeked into the kitchen, hearing Cheetara in there.

She was already dressed in jeans and a clean white blouse, and from the smell of things she was making breakfast. Snarf was sitting on the table, tail whisking happily as he watched her. Cheetara's mane was back and he could just see the curve of her cheek beyond the gold strands escaping the scrunchie.

He leaned against the doorframe, gazing at her with warmth diffusing through his heart. She looked a little careless, and that was more beautiful than anything. More than her evening gown and makeup, more than the bun and coifed appearance, seeing her here was the loveliest thing he could imagine.

When she turned around she straightened in surprise. "I didn't know you were awake."

"I just got up." He tried not to favor his side but a sharp pang made him drop a paw to the bandages. Cheetara turned off the stove and handed one of the pills Jaguara had prescribed. "You're supposed to take one when you wake up with food, and then one more as needed throughout the day without exceeding four. And you take the antibiotics when you wake up and when you go to bed." She handed him another pill and opened his fridge to pour a cup of juice. "I've got breakfast finished, so go ahead and take those with this. I've got pancakes, eggs, toast-"

Lion-O gently made her set the carton down, looking over the plates in wonder. They were piled with pancakes and waffles, and the scrambled eggs had been salted and placed on each plate equally. There was a plate of sunny side up for Kat, who hated scrambled. "You made all this?"

She shrugged. "I woke up early and figured everyone would be hungry. And you haven't had anything substantial in a while according to Snarf. And I mean, that was a pretty high grocery bill the other day, so I felt kind of bad that the kittens wanted so many kinds of snacks-"

Lion-O let his forehead rest against hers and he kissed her. He then withdrew and said, "You didn't have to do all this. But thank you. It looks wonderful."

Cheetara slowly wound her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss in return. And then another. It was the first time they'd kissed mouth to mouth since her arrival, and Lion-O relished it, letting her scent – fresh, slightly of syrup – wrap around his head and hover. "It's good to see you," she said lowly. Lion-O let his fingers tangle in her ponytail and his lips rested by her ear as she set her jawline against his neck. "We've missed you so much."

"I missed you too. You came here in the middle of the night just to help me…I love you guys." Shyly, he added, "I love _you_."

He had said it to her before but it was still a frightening phrase. But she just lowered her arms so they wrapped around his back and chest and said, "I love you too. I haven't been this happy in months."

Lion-O could have cried with how good it all felt. Instead he cleared his throat and she released him in favor of giving him the cup of juice. "Okay, pills now." Her tone was direct, a light command.

Snarf was under the table and snickered when Lion-O downed them, pulling a face. The bitter tang of orange juice on his tongue tasted funny until he realized that he hadn't brushed his teeth yet that morning. And he hadn't combed his mane or fur yet. He hadn't showered – or washed rather, remember the stitches – and…dear whiskers, he was wearing his Transformers pajama boxers. In front of Cheetara.

Lion-O's face flushed red. "Oh wow. I…uh, I need to go change and wash up. I'm sorry, I didn't even think…"

Cheetara glanced down and grinned. "I think they're cute."

"Really, I'm sorry. I forgot to comb my mane." He covered his mouth with a paw. "Do I have morning breath? Whiskers…"

Cheetara just smiled and followed him. "Oh come on, we all wake up a little rumpled. Kat, Kit, come here and show Lion-O your bedhead. I've got pancakes if you're hungry! Time to get up!"

It wasn't until both sleepy kittens were up and had proudly displayed their wild manes that Lion-O was able to go wash off and made himself look and smell more presentable. Snarf beat him to the table, relishing in the attention of the kittens as they loved on him and fed him and scratched his tummy. Cheetara loaded a plate carefully with food and put it in front of him, even when he protested. "I can get my own plate. You don't have to do that."

"Lion-O Leo Rey, do _not _tell me what to do. I don't care that it's your home, I will do as I please." And with that he caved to her will and let her fuss.

He feared for a moment that there might be distance between himself and the Cleras after the months he'd been gone, or that they might feel awkward around him in his own home.

It was like he'd never left.

He might have been in Tretierra or Pantherle for all the difference it made. The kittens were rambunctious and curious, Cheetara was Cheetara, and when Panthro came in smelling of electricity and tiredness looking for him, he was just the grouchy, reluctantly affectionate Panthro. "Tygra's handling the job right now. I think you're gonna have to take over right after you mend though; he's not a happy camper in charge. Says there's too much stress."

Lion-O smiled faintly. Didn't he know it? Cheetara gave a plate to Panthro, who seemed to grudgingly appreciate it. He didn't seem like the sort that was used to homemade food of this caliber.

Lion-O ate better with the Cleras and Panthro around – thanks to Cheetara – and he noticed that he'd returned to his average weight after a few days. The stitches healed quickly and the pain began to fade without medication. Daring to read through Panthro's reports on Thundrillium, he made several notes and plans on the sly to take the studies to the next level; real generators, more research, and integrating the element into day-to-day life. When he wasn't doing that he was entertaining Kat and Kit and Bengali, watching the kittens roller skate on the sidewalk. The first day Bengali had to watch in wonder. The next day there was a new pair waiting for him, conveniently big enough for him. He was a little clumsy but with the kittens bracing him on either side, Bengali soon learned the works.

Bengali was a hit with Cheetara and the kittens. They thought he was fun and sweet, and he molded himself into the group without meaning to. Pumyra was less open and easy about being around them, but she didn't seem to mind the new people. She did confess that the kittens were smart and sweet, and it was good to see Bengali making friends about his own age. She was less happy about the roller skates, but after some pleading she settled for a helmet and some elbow and knee pads.

Lion-O had never been so happy. As soon as he got the okay from Jaguara, he took them around the city in the day and the evening, showing them everything about Pantherle that was good or lovely. From the candy shop his mother used to take him to, all the way to the countryside beyond the city borders where the stars were packed into a sky barely big enough to hold them, he showed it all.

Cheetara and the kittens had never seen so many stars. The amazement in their eyes had been enough to make him want to cry from joy. Sometimes he was so happy he didn't know what to do with himself. It made his chest feel tight and warm, and made him prone to laugh even at the kittens' worst and corniest jokes.

Jaga arrived a few days after the rest of them. He had hugged Lion-O and said very little; he seemed so glad to have Cheetara laughing and smiling again that nothing _could_ be said.

The evening Jaga arrived was an interesting one. The kittens had been sleeping in Tygra's bed until this point – covered with one of Lion-O's comforters – and Cheetara had been staying in Lion-O's while he had, at last, remade the sheets in Dad's bed and slept there. It was a peculiar feeling to sleep there, but somehow he felt better for it; instead of making Dad's room a shrine where none could tread, it was now a room like any other. It had simply housed someone beloved that was gone now.

With the arrival of Jaga, though, came the issue of where he would sleep. Lion-O offered to take to the couch but Cheetara did not approve, saying that they were the intruders and that _she _would take the couch. Naturally, he defined them as guests and refused.

"I was fine on the sofa before," he said.

"That was an exception. We all slept in the living room that day. Jaga can stay in your old room and I'll take the couch. He's getting up there and he needs a firm mattress, and _you're _still recovering." Lion-O wondered if she disagreed just because she really was enjoying fussing over him. Even so, this offended his sense of chivalry, and Jaga was content to listen to them squabble with a funny, twinkly look in his eye.

That night Lion-O saw her settling in on the couch and, in protest, planted himself beside her. "We've reached an impasse I think."

She rolled her eyes. "Is there a possible compromise?"

"I'm not sleeping in a bed if you're not. That goes against my nature." He crossed his arms, realizing that they were half-playing, half-serious.

"And I'm not sleeping in a bed if doing so means that you or Jaga have to sleep on the couch." Her lips twitched in a smile and Lion-O felt a bubbly laugh trying to work its way out.

"So…what do we do?" he asked.

It was at this point that the kittens came in, dragging blankets. Snarf rode atop Kat's head. "Look, if you two are gonna talk mushy, do it in the morning. We're on the couch tonight." Kit was emphatic.

"Yeah," Kat added. "There's a marathon of nineties cartoons on tonight, and we're not missing it."

"Who said you could stay up all night?" Cheetara asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Jaga did."

So the "argument" was settled. Which was a shame, really. Because it had been funny in its own way, and Lion-O had liked sitting next to her, just the two of them.

* * *

><p>Tygra discovered very quickly that he didn't like being in charge.<p>

It was one thing to be second in command because it was easy to rely on someone else to make the hardest decisions, and if things went wrong, he could point the finger to the head of it all. But with Lion-O on vacation, Tygra assumed command and everyone brought their issues to him. And he couldn't seek Lion-O's approval for every one because heck, his brother had been shot and was to avoid stress and business. So it was all on him.

Man being the boss sucked.

Panthro was nice enough but he didn't talk about business much. He handled the machinery and answered questions about it – naturally they were granted a far longer permit considering the prospects of such an amazing power source – but everything else fell to his decision. There was never a spare moment between problems and things that had to be done, and Tygra found himself grateful when Pumyra came at twelve and said, "I know you're busy, but I brought some lunch in." She held up a bag and withdrew a wrapped dish from it. Tygra logged off his work account, scooted away from the computer, and accepted the plate. He sat it on the surface and put his forehead against the desk.

"Never tell Lion-O I said this, but…I don't know how he does this every day. I'm glad he's coming back to work in a week."

"Does what, run things? It's not as easy as you thought it would be?" She was wearing a new suit jacket, courtesy of Thunder Enterprises. After all, her other one had been used to bind a wound. It hung nicely on her, accentuating her waist.

"Definitely. I didn't realize it but there are a lot of things that go on behind the scenes that only a CEO has to deal with. I'm beat." Reluctantly, he had to add, "I guess my complaining was pretty aggravating when he was busy before, wasn't it?"

She shrugged. "I'm beginning to think he has the temperament for this job more than ever. I used to think he didn't, but he's done pretty well."

"Yeah. Great." He realized he sounded short and said, "I guess he was right about Thundrillium all along. I always told him it was stupid." He took off the covering to the plate and picked at the contents. "One more grand screw up on my list."

Pumyra had taken out her own serving but listened to this and cocked her head. "Somebody's down in the dumps."

"Maybe. I don't know."

Pumyra let the fork slip into her dish. "You know…that was a very kind thing you did. Bringing them here. You didn't have to."

Tygra shrugged and picked at his plate. "I had to bring Panthro to fix the generator."

"I meant Cheetara and the kittens." She sounded as if she wanted to say more but couldn't.

"Oh. Well." He took a bite to give him a minute to think. Pausing, he took another bite. "Who made this? It's excellent."

Pumyra seemed to blush, which was a strange look for her. She was usually so confident and bold that he couldn't remember ever seeing her do that. It was rather fetching. "I did. My mother works as a sous chef and she always pounded recipes into my head. 'You'll never land a man if you can't keep a home and make good food,'" she mimicked, sounding a little irritated. "I don't usually make anything fancy but I was in the mood."

Tygra took another bite. It was some kind of pasta with mushroom, shallot and cheeses. "So this is gourmet?"

"Pretty much. Bengali doesn't like fancy stuff, so there's no point in doing the work just for me. So you're my guinea pig."

"I don't think I mind. Thanks," he said. Pumyra nodded and leaned on his desk.

"I'm still wondering why you did it. Brought the others down I mean. I thought you liked Cheetara." She drove her fork into her own plate and eyed Tygra as he tapped his utensil on the side of his dish.

"I did. I mean, I do. I mean…"

Tygra breathed out through his nose. "Have you ever seen a couple of people together and known that they're meant to be?"

Pumyra considered this and a piece of mushroom. "Like Romeo and Juliet?"

"No. By the way, why do most women find that so romantic?" he asked suddenly. "It's a couple of stupid teenagers that commit suicide over each other after knowing each other about seventy-two hours."

"I don't find it romantic. I find it moronic. It's a well-written piece but its subject matter is ridiculous. If love robs a person of their mind and sense it's a terrible thing." Pumyra set her plate on the desk and Tygra got up, offering her his chair. She sat in it, watching him pace with his serving in paw.

"Well, what I was getting at was…have you ever seen these old couples that have been married for years and years? And they act alike and have this look they share?"

"Yeah. It's sweet. Why?"

Tygra continued pacing more slowly. "That's the way Lion-O and Cheetara look at each other. They just…had something. Lion-O told me once that Cheetara said she loved him. But I didn't really believe him until then. The way they looked at each other just…"

Pumyra's elbows rested on the desk and her eyes were quiet beneath her lashes. He felt his face redden and muttered, "It's like if I tried to come between that, I'd be trying to stop fate. They looked so happy."

It was a little uncomfortable for a moment but Pumyra lowered her eyes to the pasta, stabbing another piece. "I suppose they do suit each other. He's certainly crazy about her. I don't know about 'stopping fate' though. I didn't peg you for someone that believes in soul mates."

"I generally don't. But just because I don't believe in it doesn't mean it's not real," he muttered. "I guess I'm just coming to grips with the fact that, for the first time, someone picked Lion-O over me."

"From the sound of your history it was probably a rare occurrence." She took a drink of water and added, "Are you upset by that?"

He shrugged. "Not really. I've had a while to think about it. It's just weird. You're right that I was the one that got most of the attention. I never really thought it was such a bad thing until now. But I'm still a little mad about it. I'm not sure why."

Pumyra cut a piece of chicken. "Let me ask you honestly; do you think you and Cheetara would work together? Really? Because you can kick around the fact that she picked him instead of you and sulk about it, or you can figure out whether you two would work together as a couple and move on from there. It may have been for the best; I can't say anything because I don't know her very well."

Tygra smirked, lips twisting sourly. "In the long run I'm pretty sure we wouldn't last. She's a believing, God-fearing, animal-loving good girl."

"Whereas you tend to make fun of people that are goody-goody believers, have derision for the idea of the supernatural and have no opinion about animal cruelty in general," Pumyra observed. She crossed her legs under the desk. "Not to mention you're a little bit bigoted. Most of us are, but she doesn't strike me that way."

"Well, if we're only talking about characteristics…"

Pumyra rolled her eyes. "All right then, getting around the fact that you two aren't similar at all and have vastly different belief systems at your core, and have completely different interests, _and _are motivated by polar opposite reasoning. What else should we consider? Physical attraction? I know she's hot but so are about five hundred million other women out there."

Tygra grunted. Pumyra was fiddling with her mane and it was a little distracting. "It was only when you saw that Lion-O liked her that you really got gung-ho about pursuing her and got so upset that she was taken. I realize you liked her. But I'm just concerned because you did a really nice thing for him and…I guess I'd like to believe you did it just for its own sake. Because as annoying and egocentric as you act, I honestly don't think that's all there is to you."

She glanced out the window and Tygra felt one eyebrow dipping as he examined her. The lines of her shoulder blades were stiff and she sat as rigidly as a military officer. "Why does it matter to you?"

"I don't know. It just does." Pumyra didn't snap but there was an edge to her voice. "It was nice to see you do something like that. Showed a different side. I wouldn't have predicted it. And I'm usually a good judge of character."

Tygra noticed that he'd nearly finished his plate. "I felt like I had to. Like it was the right thing to do. Not the smart thing to do, not the ethical thing to do. The _right_ thing to do." He sighed and felt his tiredness roll through his chest. "I've been doing some searching lately. And I'm not so sure I like what I'm finding. I used to think it was all Lion-O's fault that we fought, that he was lazy and dumb and spoiled, and that was why we has issues and I was always nagging. But he's not any of those things. Well…okay, he can be dumb sometimes. But he's definitely not lazy or spoiled. And if he's not the one with the problem, that only leaves one person that could have the issue."

Pumyra's eyes softened. "I don't think blame should rest entirely on either one of you. You've both argued and fought."

"Yeah, but who was always starting it? Who is really to blame for the majority?" Tygra looked at her over his shoulder and felt weird at the gentleness of her face. "I don't know. Maybe it's just because he nearly died and I'm having a crisis. I don't want to get all chummy with him, but I also feel like I can't talk to him right now. Things aren't the same. I nearly lost him that night."

They were silent until they finished eating and he took her plate, offering to rinse it off in the restroom before she put it away. "Thanks. I'm not trying to dump all this psychological baggage on you. It's just I don't know who else I can tell it to that might see things impartially. Everybody else would be on Lion-O's side completely." Come to think of it, why would she side with him? He had insinuated he might fire her before. Shame gripped him again, though he realized she had never needed to fear him really doing.

She shrugged. "I don't know about that. They care about you too." She stood up and hesitated before moving to stand in front of him. "Look. It's been a crazy week. I don't think this is the right time to try to figure everything out. You've both made mistakes in the past. But if anything, him doing what he did only proves that he still considers you family. And you helped him in return, like families do. You're not too far gone if you're willing to do that for each other. If you want things to change…then change. Don't quibble about it."

Tygra averted his gaze. "This is going to sound stupid, but I'm not so sure I _can_."

It was an awkward, difficult place to stand; how could he continue exactly as before? And how could he alter things to make them better? It was confusing, and he had wonder; how did someone change something about themselves that they'd kept their whole life?

He voiced this aloud and Pumyra seemed a little amused. "One step at a time."

"Won't that take a long time?" he asked.

Pumyra just strode around him, and he was left more curious when she said, "Maybe. But every journey starts with a first step." She let him chew on that before admitting, "I got that from a fictional book. I can't remember where. There are some sensible things in them."

Tygra groaned. "Great, one more thing Lion-O was right about."

"Oh come on; get back to work and we can hit the gym later. You'll feel better." Pumyra took up her place at her desk and Tygra took the dishes, trying to pretend he didn't hear the phones ringing to ask him a million questions each.

000

"Hold still, I'm almost finished. Are you still taking your antibiotics?"

"Yeah – ow. I've got about two weeks' worth left. Cheetara – ow – makes me take them in the morning and evening." Lion-O watched in morbid fascination as Jaguara removed the stitches in his side and put the thread in a box beside her.

"Good girl. You're healing fast." She dabbed a little liquid on the scratch and Lion-O sighed, glad the strings were gone. "You can do very light lifting right now, but that's it."

Jaguara's mane was in a bun and Lion-O couldn't help but notice that Jaga – who stood by Cheetara and the kittens, gently holding the backs of their shirts to keep them from running over and distracting the lady – kept his eye on her. She tied on a new set of bandages and smacked his shoulder. "All right, go on. You're all right. Though I have to say, your posse grows ever larger with every visit."

He grinned awkwardly. Panthro was crammed into one of the chairs in the corner and he grunted. He'd scared a few of the nurses when he came in. "I just want to get an estimate on when he can get back to work. We've got a lot to do, and he's the only one who gets some of it."

Jaguara leaned on one of the movable counters that held her tools. Her claws were long and neatly trimmed, filed to points. "He can do file work at home, but I want another week before he's worrying himself at the job site."

Panthro didn't seem overly pleased by this, but he just lowered his chin in acceptance. "Ya make one of the biggest discoveries in the century and you can't even move forward properly because someone's been shot. Hmph."

Kit hugged his arm. "Hey, do you think you can make hoverboards and stuff like that? That'd be so cool! Lion-O, you said you had a design for them; let's try to make some and we'll test them out!"

"We'll see. There's a lot of work to do." _And I might actually enjoy it now,_ Lion-O thought.

There was no doubt that it would take years to get Thundrillium where he wanted it, but the endless ways it could improve life in Thundera – heck, the whole _world _– was something so big that he found it hard to entertain the notion. Places without ready access to power would only need a generator and the occasional shipment of Thundrillium to have electricity in their homes. Perhaps they could make portable power sources for doctors to take to places that had no help or medicine. And once they perfected the science it would be affordable for more people to have energy for long periods of time. Not to mention environmental groups wouldn't heckle them because Thundrillium didn't let off pollution…

He got dizzy if he tried to consider it all. Changing the world was a mind boggling concept.

"Begging your pardon." He twitched his head when Jaga's voice pulled him out of his reverie, but it was to Jaguara that he was speaking. "I don't mean to sound strange, but you look very familiar to me. I feel as if I've seen your picture before."

She met his eyes and furrowed her brow. "You seem a little familiar too." Jaguara snapped her fingers after a moment. "I think you were one of the contributing writers for an article on spinal injuries and the anatomical ramifications of spinal fluid buildup. They had pictures in the appendix profiling the writers."

Jaga's eyebrows shot up. "Well…a few years ago I wrote a little something. And…yes, your picture was in one of the medical texts I used for teaching my college classes in nineteen-ninety!"

Cheetara and Lion-O shared a look. That either of the jaguars remembered something as mundane as a picture in a text was not surprising, but the amount of interest this generated between them _was_. Jaguara suddenly grinned, a sharp thing. Her teeth were pearly and obviously not dentures; she'd tended them well. "Jaga Clera, that's your name. I remember now. Well well…you never know who's going to wander through the door."

"Or who's going to end up treating your granddaughter's boyfriend, it would seem." Jaga inclined his head courteously. "I tended to favor texts that used your opinions and studies, Dr. Hipocra. You had a flair for clarity and my students always appreciated that."

"Well, not just anyone gets to send in articles to the medical journals I follow." She nudged Lion-O until he got up. "Keep up what you're doing. No heavy lifting for a week, hon."

It was fascinating to hear Jaga and Jaguara chat as they headed down to the lobby. Lion-O kept giving Cheetara looks and grinning; the old jaguars behind them were talking about medicine and journals and a bunch of other doctoral things. But that wasn't the funny part. The funny part was that Kit and Kat were whispering, "Jaga and Jaguara, sitting in a tree…" as softly as possible. Cheetara tweaked their noses.

"Hush," she murmured. They gave each other wicked smirks but obeyed. Panthro rolled his eyes.

Lion-O signed out and pretended to be looking at some of the art on the walls – mostly large, boring pieces of space and abstract paintings – to give Jaga and Jaguara optimum time to talk. Panthro noticed this opening and shifted closer as they walked.

"Hey." Panthro lowered his head and muttered, "I wanted to tell you; the police called Tygra and said that Kaynar Sicar and Vultaire Rapax were both found dead in their cells."

Lion-O stopped, suddenly icy cold. Cheetara was still listening to Jaga and Jaguara chat, hiding the kittens so the older cats couldn't see them making kissy faces. None of them were paying attention. He felt his face shift into a hard expression. "When was this?"

"A couple days ago. They both appeared to go from natural causes, but Kaynar had a hollow tooth in his paw, so in his case they suspect a suicide. He might've smuggled a drug in, but there's no evidence in his body. Vultaire just seemed to pass. No wounds or anything."

Lion-O narrowed his eyes. "I take it you're suspicious of that?"

Panthro nodded slowly. "I might be paranoid, but I get a funny feeling about it. The only two people that could possibly spill anything about Mumm-Ra are dead. And there are poisons that can kill and leave very little behind." He seemed to brood and Lion-O wondered if he were remembering something from Plundarran wars.

"Yeah. Kind of convenient for him. But Vultaire didn't seem worried when he was arrested…like he didn't realize Mumm-Ra would off him for getting discovered."

Panthro shrugged. "Probably thought Mumm-Ra would take care of him. The old creep probably told him that. And I guess he did in the end."

Lion-O's stomach contracted and he suddenly felt ill.

Noticing this, Panthro said, "Kaynar had a record on him. It looks like he's been tied to several assassinations from what they confiscated from his business."

"I wasn't thinking about him. I knew he was evil. He seemed to have fun trying to shoot Tygra." Lion-O shook his head and felt his lip curl. "I kind of felt bad for Vultaire. I mean, I know he was a scumbag. But he was a cowardly person more than anything. And he couldn't have been able to defend himself if someone poisoned him. It's just sick, all the things that are going on."

He conjured an image against his will of Vultaire dying, poisoned by a glass of water. Lion-O shook his head and shivered. Panthro put an arm over his shoulders.

"Don't worry kid. I've been thinking about it, and I recommend you hire some security to keep an eye on you and Tygra and the people around you. And…well, I was kinda thinking that maybe I was ready to leave the teaching gig behind. I figure there are some other things I can do right now, if you're looking for another engineer."

Lion-O looked up at him and felt better, smiling when Panthro coughed and rubbed the back of his neck with his free paw. "You missed me."

"Nah. Well, a little. Besides, I get the feeling you pay better. And…eh…"

"You want to keep an eye on me." He read it in the stern, embarrassed lines on Panthro's face. Rather than humiliating his old professor, Lion-O looked away. "For my dad's sake, of course. After all, you were a friend of his. And Thunder Enterprises is important to you." His lips stretched a little further.

Panthro blinked. "Er…yeah, that's right. Gotta look after my pal's kids." He paused and put a paw on Lion-O's mane. "He'd be proud of you _and _your brother, y'know. You're a good kid."

Lion-O's eyes smarted at that. Panthro had the kindness to pretend to examine his watch while Lion-O wiped his face. "Thanks Panthro. It means a lot to hear that from you. And I'd love to have you on with Thunder Enterprises again. We'll get the employment papers up right away."

Jaguara seemed to be writing something and handed the paper to Jaga as they left, heading outside into the pleasant sunlight. Cheetara shook her head in disbelief. "Did she just give you her number? You've never asked for a lady's number."

The kittens started cracking up and Jaga just continued walking with dignity. "Dr. Hipocra happens to be a very brilliant woman. One of the first females of her generation to graduate and successfully pursue a doctor's degree as opposed to a nursing one. I've long admired her work and just wanted to keep in touch is all."

"She's really pretty for an older lady," Kat said baldly. Jaga didn't grace that with a reply. "And she's nice. She gave me and Kit candy. See?" He held up a few pieces of peppermint. "Are you gonna ask her out?"

Jaga exhaled rather quickly, ruffling his mustache. Lion-O bit his knuckle to keep from laughing. "I'm rather old for that sort of thing…"

"What? She's old, you're old. I think it would be nice," Kit proclaimed, dancing alongside him.

Lion-O just watched them heckle Jaga and Cheetara, like himself, was stifling laughter. He met her eyes and let the worry about Kaynar and Vultaire fall away. Because he would follow Panthro's advice and he was on a happy high. Nothing could pull him down with the Cleras near.

* * *

><p>"Guys, dinner! We've got turkey subs tonight!"<p>

Cheetara heard this from her case on the floor. She took her brush out and pulled it through her mane swiftly, hearing the kittens run past the door. "Don't run! Remember three days ago!"

The footsteps slowed. "Lion-O fixed my toe. It was just stubbed is all," Kat replied.

"Then how come you cried for three whole minutes?" Kit asked. The two began to squabble and Cheetara rolled her eyes, running her paw over her mane to make sure it was smooth. Lion-O had come to wake her up this morning to take them to pick up some breakfast, and he'd seen the awful glory of her mane before brushing. It had been like a straw nest, and she felt a little self-conscious about it now.

He wasn't shallow, and neither was she. But that didn't mean she didn't want to primp around him a little.

She replaced the brush in her bag – leaving it on someone else's bathroom counter just seemed strange to her – and felt something soft. Cheetara smiled and pulled out a stuffed animal, hugging it and standing up. Looking around, she found a place in Lion-O's room on one of his shelves and placed it there.

"Now you're back home," she said gently, tracing Doofle's little stitched mouth.

"You brought him with you?"

Cheetara looked over her shoulder and tapped Doofle's nose. "Of course. He's important to both of us now." Lion-O drew in close and wrapped his arms around her waist with just the slightest hesitation. She folded her arms across his to reassure him, feeling him settle against her. "It was very sweet of you to give him to me. I felt a little bad though. He was the last thing your mother…"

Lion-O smelled nice and it was distracting. He had started waking up earlier than her so he could freshen up without her catching sight of him uncombed and bedraggled. He wore the same type of cologne he'd worn the night he left and it was a rich, soft smell. It was particularly strong when she tilted her head toward his neck, toward the finer fur on his face and throat. "I wanted you to have him. Still do."

He looked sheepish about something. "I know I said I was in charge of making dinner tonight, but I just wanted to warn you that the subs probably aren't going to be that great. They're glorified sandwiches, and I _might _have toasted the bread a little too long."

Cheetara laughed. Lion-O looked so awkward and it felt so good to be standing close to him again that it made her dizzy. "That's fine. Sometimes food is best a little on the simple side." A part of her wanted to remain with him alone, standing in his arms and letting his warmth fill her skin. His fur brushed hers and it was comfortingly still in his room. She lifted her chin, looking at some of the titles on the shelves. "You were right. Kat and Kit did like 'Holes.'"

"Good. It's a fun book." Lion-O slowly let go of her and she felt wistful for that warmth. The kittens had been savvy in letting them have time to themselves, playing with Bengali and messing with Panthro or Tygra instead. Even though she was grateful for their understanding, Cheetara couldn't help but try to grab up more of Lion-O's time and attention. Perhaps it was because they were in such a new place; he was familiar and comforting. He was home, and to have him near was to have home right alongside her. "Tygra brought Bengali and Pumyra along, so I had to make some extra. Come on, while they're still hot and sort of edible."

The sandwiches were fine, and Cheetara sat between Lion-O and Kat at the table. The dining table itself hadn't been used since Thanksgiving, but it was the only way to fit eight people – nine including Snarf – in the same room for dinner. She noticed that Tygra, though he talked to Lion-O and told him about what was happening at Thunder Enterprises, didn't seem to want to look at him for longer than a few moments. Pumyra was willing enough to report in his stead, and Cheetara found that she had a rather abrasive – if admirably confident – way about her.

"By the way, we've started getting calls about investors wanting to partner with Thunder Enterprises to sell generators once we perfect them. One interested group is the government." Pumyra smirked and handed Lion-O a paper. "The offers are quite generous."

Lion-O just looked over the paper with interest. Cheetara stared at the page and felt a little faint. "That's a lot of zeros," she said quietly.

"Yeah, but I think they overestimate the costs it'll take to get Thundrillium. It forms in the Earth really fast; it's the generators that take time. Of course, once we finish our models we'll be able to produce them easily. And for ten years we'll have a monopoly. Still, the whole point is making it affordable to increase demand, so the prices should probably decrease about thirteen percent for the individual family…it makes profit and demand will increase if we can make generators that last several years and get deals for Thundrillium costs…"

Lion-O began making notes, absently forgetting his sandwich. Cheetara watched him in something like wonder. He was still their Lion-O, but there was another side to him; he was a CEO, intelligent in matters of business _and _books, energy and family. He dealt with people that were rich and powerful day in and day out. He shifted when he became the CEO, speaking more clearly and voice echoing with the timbre of an order.

Lion-O was a man. Still sweet, still gentle in nature, but he was a man in control. "Oil companies are interested in investing as well. After all, if we develop it to the point that oil is obsolete, they'll need to make their money somehow," Tygra added. Lion-O looked at the next page, nodding.

"I think that'll still take a while. A lot of people prefer oil, and we're still in the early stages of this. We'll have to play it by ear, see where we are in a couple of years. But yeah, we can go ahead and meet with them." He smiled. "Environmental protection groups should be happy. Thundrillium will cut down on emissions a lot. At least we don't have to worry about them protesting us."

"Have you been watching the news?" Panthro asked. He gestured with his sub. "'Against all odds, Thunder Enterprises had introduced a saving grace to those suffering from high energy prices. The genius decisions of the Reys and their employees will herald the beginning of energy for everyone in the world.'" He took a bite and chewed on it. "Like they weren't insultin' Thunder Enterprises eight days ago, saying it would collapse. Bunch of opportunists."

Lion-O seemed to find something funny about that. Panthro reluctantly smirked.

Jaga occasionally reached out to brush crumbs off Kat's shirt. "How has Black Pyramid taken things?"

"No word, other than a scandalized apology for Vultaire's bizarre doings," Tygra muttered. "Mumm-Ra claims he had no idea Vultaire would do something like that, and expresses sorrow that he wasn't able to give him a piece of his mind before Vultaire passed."

Lion-O lowered his eyes to his sandwich. "No one suspects him?"

"Of course not. Both criminals are dead of apparently natural causes. If they found chemicals or something, they'd be suspicious, but they have no leads. Who knows, maybe they killed themselves instead of-"

Pumyra elbowed Tygra harshly in the ribs. He winced and noticed that the kittens and Bengali were listening. He cleared his throat. "Well. No one knows. Mumm-Ra's a bad guy and we'll have to watch out for him. Especially whenever we visit in Tretierra."

Cheetara blinked and things got a little quiet for a second. Tygra seemed to realize his mistake and continued, "Anyway, you guys were saying you wanted to go get ice cream or something?"

The kittens nodded but the damage was done; Cheetara's heart felt sick, squishy, like it had fallen into her stomach and didn't work anymore. And Lion-O's face was carefully blank as he continued eating, the smile gone.

Of course it had occurred to her that they would eventually have to go back to Tretierra. But actually hearing someone bring it up to Lion-O – who probably had not thought of it, distracted as he'd been – was painful. The kittens had not picked up on the cue at least; they were as bouncy as ever and chattered at Pumyra and Bengali about how they'd met Lion-O when they went to get ice cream.

"And Lion-O bought us the sandwiches, so we asked him where he was from, and then he said he was coming to school, and then we took him to meet Cheetara. And then he turned funny colors and he adopted Snarf and got a crush on her."

Cheetara just laughed along with the others when they picked up the ice cream and headed back.

It wouldn't be so bad to be without Lion-O now, knowing that he would have more time to visit. Or at least he would have more authority and do more of what he wanted. He would come more often, and they could come to see him – assuming, of course, whatever Tygra had done had been permanent – too. She was beyond feeling awkward about him spending money to bring them to Pantherle; if there was one thing the Reys wouldn't have to worry about, it was money. So they'd see each other once a month, maybe every two months. It would be bearable, wouldn't it?

She felt sick and politely refused her usual vanilla. Lion-O got a chocolate swirled cone and bought an extra bowl for Snarf. He didn't seem to enjoy his cone very much, even though the kittens dug into their chocolate-dipped strawberry ice cream with gusto. She looked at all the flavors with a little interest; they were all different. Panthro didn't like ice cream – he complained it hurt his teeth – and got plain yogurt instead. Tygra got spumoni, Pumyra liked butterscotch, and Bengali had cookie dough. Jaga preferred pistachio.

It was nice being with all of them. Tygra had gotten them down there, but Lion-O was the linchpin that really brought their hearts together. He was their common denominator.

Jaga was watching her, and she felt as if he was reading her emotions, catching the little pangs. She smiled at him. He lowered his gaze to his bowl and Cheetara just focused on Lion-O's fingers on her upper arm.

_Can I do this? Can I leave Pantherle when Lion-O is here?_

She shut her eyes and opened them more forcefully. Lion-O was telling Bengali something as they stood on the sidewalk, waiting for the walk sign to light up. Cheetara lifted her paw from her side and rested it on his hip, and he looked at her. She smiled and stifled a laugh; there was a little ice cream on his nose. She took one of the napkins he had wrapped around the cone and handed it to him, letting him wipe it off. "Sorry. Didn't realize."

"It happens to the best of us." Cheetara took a bite from his cone – teasing him – and got ice cream all down her chin. She lifted her free paw to cover it and Lion-O laughed, somber eyes light again. He gave her another napkin so she could clean it off.

"The best, huh?" He offered her the cone again at a better angle, and Cheetara took a daintier bite. The others were ahead of them, not noticing the goofiness.

"Mm-hm." She rested her head on his shoulder. "So…you've been thinking the same thing I have."

"About…the end of the visit?" he asked. She nodded and felt his warm breath on her mane. "Yeah." They had crossed the street and she lifted her head, side pressed to his. "I won't let it be like before. I let everything control me. This time I'm doing what I want," Lion-O said firmly. "And…I'll bring you guys down here. I'll figure out what Tygra did for the kittens and bring you down every other weekend if you want. Heck, _every _weekend if you'd prefer."

The sweetness of this made her tilt her head and kiss his cheek. "That's very kind. And we do need to stick together as much as possible. But every week…Jaga and I can't leave the clinic so often, one of us has to stay. And…I know money isn't really an issue, but-"

Lion-O shook his head. "After all you guys have done, you deserve more than I could ever give."

She sighed. They didn't talk anymore about it that evening, speaking instead of kittens and movies.

But she felt so selfish. She wanted to say that she wanted him to come back home with them and be right around the block. He was like sunshine; if they – if she – went without him for very long, things withered. And in the way he held her fingers, Cheetara knew he felt the same way about her.

That didn't help much, though. Cheetara lay awake in bed that night, looking at Doofle and Barbie. How funny that by now she looked at them and felt like they belonged beside each other.

She tended to remain still while she slept. But that night she rolled, trying to find comfortably cool spots in the sheets. At last she could take it no longer; at one in the morning she got up and headed into the hall, pausing outside the door to Claudus' old bedroom. Cheetara slipped in the door and looked at the bed, leaning on the wall in her pajama bottoms and t-shirt feeling rumpled and tired.

Lion-O slept on his front when he had room, and she was glad that his stitches had healed. He snored a little but for some reason the sound made her want to laugh. Probably because she distinctly recalled her mother snoring. Dad had never snored but Mom…it had been like a lawn mower. It had been amazing that such a dainty, slim woman could make such a noise, but it was true. To the best of her knowledge Cheetara didn't snore, but the sound didn't bother her.

Lion-O rolled onto his side, and she drifted back out the door, afraid she'd wake him. Before she could close it something brushed against her ankle and Cheetara jolted, looking down to see…Snarf. He looked a little cranky and she knelt to pick him up and stroke his ears. "Did I wake you Snarf?"

He nodded, laying his head on her chest and curling in comfortably. "Sorry about that. Just checking on your master. Did he mention us going back home to you?" Cheetara trailed down the hall to the kitchen, cradling him as he yawned and nodded. She opened the refrigerator and took out the gallon of milk, pouring herself a glass. It was her vice; a cup of milk in the middle of the night was the only surefire way to knock herself out. Snarf dismissed it, content to doze on her front as she put the jug back with one paw and closed the fridge door with her foot. She sat down at the table and sipped at it, rubbing Snarf's back and watching his red coat shine.

"I'm just not sure what to do," she admitted. "We missed him so much, and it would be very difficult to come see him every weekend. Even every other week. But not seeing him would be even harder. But I have to think about the kittens and work, and Jaga will need help at the clinic…"

Snarf opened one green eye and blinked it lazily up at her. Cheetara buried her face in his golden tuft of head fur and muttered, "Oh Snarf, I just don't know what to do. I don't want to miss him but how can we come see him often enough when we live a flight away? This probably sounds so selfish, but I don't want to have to miss him at all."

It was quiet as Snarf purred and rubbed his face against her neck as if to tell her it was all right. And then, a quiet, cultured voice came from the doorway.

"There is an alternative you know."

Cheetara sat up, back straight. She relaxed when she recognized Jaga in his plaid, button up pajama set. He stepped lightly over the floor and took the seat beside her. "You surprised me," she said. "Did I wake you?"

"No. I just had a funny feeling this evening." His eyes drifted over her scruffy mane and the sleepy Snarf on her shoulder.

"What were you saying?" Cheetara asked, nudging the chair beside her so he would come sit down.

"I merely said that there was an alternative. You seem to think you can only miss him or travel too much between Tretierra and Pantherle. That isn't so." His voice sounded like the ocean on gravelly sand, rough and soft. He started sounding croaky when he was tired. Cheetara took his paw, finger tired and knobby beneath her youthful palm.

"Is there another way Jaga? Because neither one sounds doable. I can't miss him like that again, but to travel every few days on a plane just sounds crazy." Cheetara paused for a drink of milk. "If there's another option, I need to know.

"It's rather simple; I'm surprised you've missed it. Perhaps you ought to move to Pantherle." Cheetara's eyes grew round and Jaga observed his claws. "You would be close to Lion-O and the kittens would be in a safer city."

"…Well…I…"

Cheetara stroked Snarf, staring at her glass of milk. "I can't do that, Jaga. I mean, that's awfully drastic. And you need an assistant in Tretierra. And that's…that's home to me and the kittens, how could I just-?"

Move away from Tretierra? From Jaga? Her heart recoiled from the idea. It was where she'd grown up, where she was used to. She treated animals there, gone to school there. Her history was woven into Tretierra and its buildings and streets. Her entire past was a part of it. She said all this and Jaga rested his chin on his interlocked fingers.

"Cheetara dear, I think you need to consider your future. Take it from someone who knows personally. We should never forget our past, but we mustn't let it dictate every decision we make. Otherwise we'll end up making very bad, limited decisions."

Jaga rested his arms on the table. He seemed amiably sleepy. "These questions need to be answered. First, do you love Lion-O?"

She lifted her chin when Snarf opened both eyes. "Yes."

"And he loves you." This was not a question but she nodded anyway. "You are very close to becoming a licensed veterinarian. We have some funds saved up, nearly enough to buy a building without taking out loans and worrying about interest. You would never be more than a phone call away if you needed help from me or anyone else. Is moving here possible with our resources?"

Cheetara ran through the facts and said, "Yes. But then we'll miss _you_."

Jaga uncrossed his legs and crossed them the other way. "But you'll all miss Lion-O more if you come back to Tretierra. Honestly dear, the lot of you have been pining to come see him for the past three months and to see you so miserable is heartbreaking." He took her paw again. "He's a wonderful young man that makes all of you happy. You _glow _when you're with him. I shall miss you, but it would be a lot easier for one person to come here than a group. And then Lion-O wouldn't have to compromise in his work, and neither would you."

Cheetara look at Snarf, and he cocked one ear back happily. Feeling childish, she lifted him and played with the tufts of fur on his ears. "…Would you visit all the time?" she asked in a small voice.

He smiled. "If you and the kittens live down here, I shall have to take vacations to come see you. Say…a couple weeks every other month? I'd be able to afford it if it's only me. And I can always move here permanently when I retire."

For some reason this thought didn't upset her. Cheetara scooted her chair so she was closer to Jaga and leaned on his shoulder. He smelled old and like peppermint. His whiskers tickled her, and she said, "I'll have to ask the kittens what they want to do."

"Yes." Jaga held her and kissed the top of her head. "Cheetara, you are my dear heart. Nothing would make me as happy as seeing you happy. That's what every parent – or grandparent, I suppose – wants."

Cheetara felt a little young to make this decision. Twenty-one was an adult, sure, and she'd always had pretty sound judgment. But to move hours away, take care of the kittens on her own?

_Lion-O had to take over a whole company, and he's only eighteen. And you wouldn't be alone._

This thought stilled her fear and soothed her heart. Her head cleared and she picked up the cup. Cheetara finished her glass of milk and said, "I'll think about it. But I think you're right." She stood up and so did Jaga, folding her in a hug.

"The decision is yours to make. I'll be proud of you whatever you decide," he said gently. Snarf wiggled between them and Jaga stepped back. "Snarf, don't let on about this. Cheetara will tell Lion-O when she's made up her mind."

Snarf's little mouth puckered but he nodded. Cheetara took him back to bed with her and slept for the remainder of the night.

* * *

><p>Lion-O was surprised when he went back to work. All the employees rushed him at the door, asking questions excitedly.<p>

"Are you all right sir?"

"You kept a generator secret from that con man?"

"The company's receiving so many offers it's hard to keep track of them al!"

"Claudus never had this much business in twenty years, let alone two weeks!"

Lion-O answered what he could and worked his way through the crowd. No one dared to touch him but they crowded around him within an inch of his clothes. Lion-O escaped to the elevator and leaned against its wall, letting the polite smile slip a little.

It was going to be busy that day. There would be contracts, calls, offers, and who knew what else. His stomach hurt just a little with soreness but it was nothing unbearable. He straightened his tie and wished that everyone had woken up in time to say goodbye. But the kittens had been tired and Cheetara was still asleep when he left, so he set a note on the shelf by her – rather, his – bed and kissed her mane before leaving.

Lion-O wondered if that was what Dad had ever felt like when he went to work and Mom was still asleep. It felt nice and strange all at once.

He had tried not to think about the fact that she and the kittens and Jaga would probably leave in the next week. They probably missed home and their own beds, and he didn't want them to feel uncomfortable. And even though he really, really wanted to hint that he would pay for the apartment next to him so they could live right there, he got the feeling that it might be read as creepy.

Besides, he couldn't do that to Cheetara. She loved Tretierra; it was her home. Lion-O straightened when the elevator slid open and stepped out into the hall, noting that people were watching him through the glass panes of their offices before he entered his.

Pumyra looked up and said, "Lynxana wants to talk to you."

Great. Perfect. He sighed and mumbled, "Where?"

She pointed to his desk and he saw that the lynx had made herself comfortable in his chair. "Hope you don't mind. I had to fight my way through the front door. Your security team would have thrown me out if I hadn't mentioned that Tygra agreed that you'd meet me."

Lion-O cocked his ear back. "I wasn't aware of that."

"Yeah, well, you were unconscious." She seemed less risqué than usual; her skirt was longer and her blouse showed less of her chest. He tended not to look purposely at those general regions, but the fact that she wasn't flaunting herself was what drew his eye. She actually looked kind of nice. Her mane was in a bun and her makeup was light. It was as if she were trying to look…professional. Ladylike. "So could you tell your coffee girl over there to vamoose?"

Pumyra's hackles rose and Lion-O said, "She doesn't get me coffee. But Pumyra, would you see if Tygra needs any help? And please tell him I'm here."

"Yes Mr. Rey." She got up, gave Lynxana a predatory look and left the room. She kept the door open.

Lynxana noticed that. "Afraid I'll attack you?"

"I'm in an important position. People like to make things up. Being in a closed room alone with you gives them ideas," Lion-O said honestly. He sat in Pumyra's chair. "After all, I seem to recall a rumor going around saying I took drugs. They really were just mints you know."

"Agh, I know. I didn't report on that. Sylvestir…never mind. The past is in the past. I'm more interested in the future right now." She pulled a pen from behind her ear and held a notepad in her lap. "So. Mr. Rey, CEO of Thunder Enterprises. You are poised to change the world if the employees are to be believed. Tell me about it."

Lion-O didn't know what to make of the interview. Lynxana was less combative than usual, less flirtatious. It made it easier to talk and she rarely pressed him. Sure she was still kind of rude, but compared to her previous self she was quite docile.

After twenty minutes she put the pen away. "That's enough for now. You're busy putting sunshine and rainbows into the world, so I shouldn't distract you," she said sarcastically. Lion-O watched her get up and waited until she was nearly out the door.

Then he could hold it no longer. "Are you okay? You're acting differently."

She rapped her claws on the doorframe. "Of course I'm okay. What, is the demure, somewhat classy Lynxana a change of pace?" She gave him a glance over her shoulder.

"Kind of. You're not acting as…vicious as usual."

"Even I've got a heart. You got shot, kiddo. You've put up with a lot of crap recently. I can pretend to be saintly too you know." Lynxana hesitated and then turned around, facing his desk. "I heard that you took a bullet for your tail of a brother."

Lion-O tilted his head. "Where did you hear that?"

"Around. So…that's a pretty good thing I guess." Crossing the room, Lynxana scanned his office, taking in the pictures on the walls. "Can't you do something mean?"

"Huh?"

"Just kick a pet. Make a face at someone. Deface some public property. Or-oh, I know, flip me off. Something kind of mean." She shrugged and Lion-O stared at her.

"Did you forget a pill this morning or something? Because I had this friend once that had a little emotional issue and he couldn't forget his medication or he got upset-"

"Oh, shut up. Stop being nice, I'm about to throw up." She sat on his desk like a pouting child. "I just don't get people like you. It's like you're made out of glitter and sugar."

Lion-O stood up and paced around his desk to face her. "What's wrong? Why are you saying this stuff? It's like you didn't even care about the interview."

Lynxana chewed her lip and didn't answer immediately. "You know how I once said people always turn bad and I nail them for it?"

"You said something like that, yeah."

"Well I do. They're all secretly nasty people that are self-serving and doing something bad." She prodded his tie with a finger and said, "But…then there's you, the only person I've got any kind of ace on, and you've got to be Mr. Goody. You like animals, you like kids, you're trying to make clean, affordable energy, you're all for species equality…and now you pull this."

Lion-O noticed that she seemed angry and embarrassed. He blinked twice and asked, "And this is…bad."

"Well, I'm feeling guilty for the first time ever about slinging mud on someone." She put her paws on the desk surface. "I'm supposed to find bad stuff and report it, but the only way I can do that with you is by stretching the truth like a balloon animal. And how am I supposed to continue being completely mean to a guy that takes a freaking bullet for his jerk of a brother? How?"

Lion-O considered this. "Uh…I guess if you had a conscience at all, it'd be kind of hard. You could report honest things instead." He paused. "But still nothing about my girlfriend, her family, or anything like that."

"Even though they're here?" she asked, brows lifting. "Nobody expected that."

"My brother has his better side. And no talking about them. You're hemming and hawing around what you really want to say. I'm kind of busy, so if you can't figure it out today, then…come back later I guess." He took a step back and shrugged. "Anyway, I need to check up with my brother. Excuse me."

No sooner than he'd turned around, Lion-O heard something like a cough, rapidly sputtered. "'Msorry."

He frowned. "Huh?"

"I…guess I'm kind of…just a little bit…sorry. You know, for trying to screw up their lives."

Lion-O stared.

"And…pestering you. And being so obnoxious. And for assuming you were a crappy person without getting any evidence. And for letting Sylvestir push that story that got your apartment searched for drugs." She had been counting on her fingers. "Did I miss anything?"

"I guess not." Lynxana's face was a little red and she seemed huffy.

"Okay. I just felt kind of bad about behaving unprofessionally. I can't have that kind of reputation now that I'm a bona fide reporter, so I'm trying to clean house."

"You're professional now?"

She gave him a sardonic smile. "Reporting on your company is kind of a big deal, babe."

Lion-O realized for the first time that it was, and that it had probably changed her world. PENN had gone from a hack channel to a legitimate news source. He'd been her foot in the door. And she was actually just the tiniest bit grateful for it and the success that had come. And in her own selfish, weird, bratty way, she was trying to make a little peace.

He wondered if she'd always been so abrasive. Perhaps once upon a time she hadn't. At that moment she and the paparazzi ceased to frighten him in any way. He let her walk out the door unhindered before muttering, "You're welcome."

At any rate, there were more important things to worry about than Lynxana's guilt episode. He went into Tygra's office and found that his brother looked frazzled and was legitimately relieved when Lion-O thanked him for standing in and said he would take care of things now. Tygra had been sorely tried by all the questions he didn't know the answers to and all the stress.

For Lion-O, it was like being shown a bunch of good books and being asked which he preferred and why. There were plans to be made, deals to sign, experiments to prepare. Lion-O was in his element for the first time and enjoyed it.

There was no more sensation of being coddled or spoken down to; Concolo treated him the same as ever, with dignity, and Palustri seemed cowed. He spoke little and allowed him to talk. When Lion-O opened his mouth, everyone stood and listened attentively.

It was strange. Good in a way, but strange. He had authority, and he exercised it in several ways.

Tygra accidentally called him "Lion-O" and one of the board members corrected him. Lion-O looked at the cat and said, "My brother is going to call me Lion-O from now on. I don't like it when family refers to me as 'Mr. Rey.'"

There had been glances exchanged, questioning murmurs. Tygra had met his eyes and nodded lightly, as if he'd accepted a comment about the weather. Even so, Lion-O felt suddenly three times taller; he had given an order breaking tradition, and people had to deal with it. They wouldn't tell him what to do like a student.

He was in charge.

Panthro had returned to Ome N. to finish out the semester and resign officially. He would be back in about a month and a half, and Lion-O looked forward to it. Bengali reported that people at school weren't making fun of him anymore; apparently they'd heard he had a paw in making a machine that would revolutionize the energy industry, and it was hard to call someone a moron when he did better math than the algebra teacher. He had the kittens for friends, and they made a merry group.

The only thing that bothered Lion-O was that the Cleras would go back home soon. That thought was enough to make him pause in this new work he loved and become listless.

He was ashamed of his reaction – it was selfish to want them to stay here instead of being at home…wasn't it? – but it was the only thing bothering him now. So for a couple of days he nursed his injury and pushed the thought away, working and trying to soak up every minute he could with them.

It was one early afternoon that he was at his desk, reading through his folders and approving blueprints and schedules, that he smelled something like ravioli. He wiggled his nose absently but didn't look up until he heard someone come in. Dragging his eyes up, he felt a little jolt of happiness; Cheetara was standing in the doorway, looking around at the office. She had a bag on one arm and her purse on her other. She smiled at him and he noticed she was wearing black slacks and a brown blouse, one that tied around the neck and showed off her shoulders and spots. "Hi. You haven't taken a lunch break yet, have you?"

"No. No, I got caught up in reading something." Lion-O got up, aware that Pumyra was watching. "Did you want to eat here?"

"Sure. I brought some of Jaga's ravioli. He and the kittens are at the apartment right now." Pumyra said something about needing to take _her _lunch break and slipped out the door, leaving Lion-O with Cheetara. He took the bag for her and cleared off the folders on his desk to put the wrapped plates within it down. "So…this is your office. I hadn't seen it yet."

"Yeah. Well, originally Dad's, but mine now." He indicated the kittens' pictures on the wall and grinned sheepishly. "I've got a regular art gallery."

"Yes, I noticed. Some of the finest crayon pieces." She approached the great pane overlooking the street and gazed out of it. "What a view. And this office is as big as half of the clinic."

"Well, considering Dad was a pretty broad guy," Lion-O said, imagining Claudus trying to sit in one of the examination rooms. He stifled a smile and stood beside Cheetara. "Are you okay? You seem a little distracted."

"I'm fine. Just…thinking." She was scanning the buildings with careful eyes. She pointed through the glass. "Is that Amalthea Street?"

Lion-O followed her claw and squinted. "Yeah. Out there with the gray buildings with the white roofs. It's known for the grumpy, nasty old codgers that frequent the place. I think there's a gentleman's club on it somewhere and that's why they congregate along there. Dad had to do business there once and took me along, and one of the men told me I looked like a girl. An ugly girl."

She made a noise of indignant disgust. "Well, scratch that off." Shaking her head, Cheetara crossed the carpet and put her paws on Pumyra's seat. "Would she mind if I borrowed this?"

"No. Why were you asking about Amalthea Street?" He nudged the chair when she sat down and then he wheeled it over to his desk. With a laugh Cheetara let him spin her once before settling her seat beside his.

"I had heard there was a building for sale there." Cheetara opened the bag and gave him a plate. He waited for her to get hers out before he took off the cover and took a bite. It was still hot, tender and thick, and Lion-O sighed.

"This tastes so good. Just like last year. Remember when you got food poisoning?"

She winced. "Don't remind me. I was a wreck. I had to settle for leftovers." Taking a forkful, Cheetara chewed and swallowed before saying, "Jaga is just out of this world. He got up early to make it today."

"That was nice of him. Nice of him to watch the kittens too," Lion-O added. Cheetara gave him a pointed smile and kissed his forehead.

"I told him I needed to discuss something with you. He offered to keep them entertained."

Lion-O didn't press her as she toyed with her fork and they ate, taking pleasure in the quiet company. She looked at him again and said, "Your suit kind of surprised me."

He gave himself a once over. It was a plain suit with a red tie. "What, is it messed up?"

"No. Just seeing you in it makes me realize that you're in charge of this place." Her eyes reflected the gray brightness of the cloudy sky outside. "You've always been Lion-O to us. I guess you just didn't live like a rich kid and I never thought of you that way."

Lion-O turned his wrist to observe his cufflinks. "I went to Tretierra to earn my own way. I didn't want to have to rely on Dad to succeed. And Dad did his best not to spoil us."

He looked at her and couldn't help but ask, confidence slipping a little, "Do you think he'd be proud of all this? It's such a big change."

Her paw rested on his. "I think he would be. You didn't always agree, but you worked hard and did something good. Any father should be proud of that."

She still did it. Cheetara set his fears at ease and brushed them away like dust. If anyone else had said that, he would have found a loophole or a new doubt, even Panthro. But with her here…

Lion-O lifted her paw held it, letting his cheek brush the backs of her fingers. "Thanks." He pressed a kiss to her thumb before asking, "What did you want to 'discuss' as you put it?"

She crossed her legs and the way she shifted made her clothes rest pleasantly on her. "Jaga plans on going back to Tretierra in two days," Cheetara said calmly. Lion-O's heart sank – so soon? – and he forced his face not to reflect it.

"Oh. Wow. You know…you could stay longer than that. The apartment is plenty big enough for everyone. Or if he'd like it better I could get you guys a hotel room, if he's uncomfortable about-"

"No, no, it's fine. That's not the point." Lion-O shut his mouth, realizing he'd probably given away his game in a few stumbling sentences. "I…well, I'll just say it. I've been considering…living here. In Pantherle I mean. I've been looking for real estate that's not very expensive for the past couple of days because the kittens and I have really been thinking that…we might set up a Pantherle Veterinary Clinic."

Lion-O drew a blank, watching a faint pinkness come into her face.

"Pantherle Veterinary Clinic? You mean you'd run it? Here? In Pantherle?" He wished he didn't sound so dim. Lion-O's brain wasn't quite clicking with her words, not understanding what she meant. Because if she meant what he _thought _she meant, that would be the most amazing, shocking, wonderful thing in the world.

"You…you really want to stay in Pantherle?" Saying it felt hushed and breathless, as if he were asking her a secret.

_She was willing to move, to leave Tretierra behind? But it was her home, where her parents and Jaga had lived. She's lived there her whole life._

Cheetara sheepishly ran a paw through her mane and a few of the thicker locks fell over her shoulder. "Well, it's a nice city. And I like the more wholesome environment. And we've been talking about another clinic for a while now…"

She trailed off and sighed. Rubbing her arm and folding it close to her side in embarrassment, she shrugged a shoulder. "We missed you. _I _missed you. I don't want to feel that way again, even just for a little while. You and I operate better when we're together than when we're apart," she said softly. "Jaga told me I should do what makes me happy. And…I'm happiest and at my best when I'm with you."

Lion-O just stared at her for about a minute. She finally waved a paw when his lips started curling upward. "Is that a happy smile or an, 'oh man, she's stalking me, I'd better just smile' smile?"

'Happy' was an understatement. Lion-O took in the deepening flush in her cheeks and wanted to pick her up and kiss her.

So, even though it was against the doctor's orders, he did. He got out of his chair, took her waist and whisked her out of her seat, holding her like a bride around the back and knees. Cheetara grabbed his neck in surprise and he brought her in for a firm, heated kiss that made his lips burn. After a moment she tightened her arms and leaned in, responding appreciatively.

They had never kissed for a long period of time – a few seconds at most – but this one seemed to last forever, stretching on for nearly thirty seconds. Lion-O had always been the one to let her initiate, and he realized that he hadn't given her even a moment's notice before snatching her up. It didn't seem terribly courteous in retrospect, and he pulled his face back and felt his cheeks reddening. "Um…I'm sorry. I didn't even ask if that was okay," he mumbled, mouth working slowly. Cheetara brought her paws up to his face and put her index finger against his lips.

"You worry too much." Her finger was then removed and Cheetara put a paw on the back of his neck and drew him in for another kiss. Her mouth pressed to his and Lion-O reaffirmed his grip, bringing her front near and tilting his head until the kiss was deepened.

It took three seconds after the kiss ended, but Lion-O found his voice and said, "I love you. And…if that would really make you happiest, to live here…I'd love it. Nothing would make me happier."

The color in her face spoke of euphoria this time and she bounced one of her feet in the air. "As much as I like being carried, if you get a hernia I'm totally going to have a guilt complex."

He laughed. Then he gently released her knees while keeping his other arm around her waist. "Sorry. If it makes you feel better I don't think you weigh enough to cause any damage." Lion-O's fingers traced through her mane and he held her close. "This…this is…you couldn't make today any better now. You couldn't." He spun her around. "What about the kittens? Have you asked them?"

"Yes, they know. Keeping a secret nearly killed Kat, but I talked to them yesterday. They say as long as Jaga comes to visit a bunch, they want to stay here." She cocked an eyebrow. "Apparently Jaga will hire on interns and one veterinary assistant to take over for me. And he'll be partially retired, visiting every other month for a few weeks at a time. He's getting up there he says."

Lion-O laughed. "I'm glad you've told me all this. I'll help you look for the perfect home for the Pantherle Veterinary Clinic. There's one vet on the eastern side of the city but not on this side, so maybe we can find a place close to Thunder Enterprises. One that isn't by a cranky gentleman's club." Cheetara wrapped her arm around his and looked out the window, taking comfort in the moment as they stood together with their arms linked and their hearts close.

* * *

><p>"This place kind of smells like…old guy. Only dirty, not like Jaga." Kat sniffed again and his tail curled in thought. "I think hobos used to live here."<p>

Kit disregarded the fact that she was in a skirt and inspected the room. "There are spiders in the corner."

Lion-O looked at the paper describing the building and said, "It's cheaper than the others, but I can see why. 'Requires dry walling and roof maintenance,' 'foundation unsound,' and…okay, apparently if all these safety standards can't be met by a buyer, then it's going to be condemned."

Cheetara shook her head. "Cleaning and maintenance are fine, but this is unsafe. I can use a hammer. Fixing a foundation is beyond my talents _and_ budget." Kat returned to her as did Kat, both looking disappointed. "There are still a few we haven't checked, aren't there?"

"About seven. The next one is one of the closest to Thunder Enterprises." Lion-O drew a line through the address and held the door open for Cheetara and the kittens. Kat hopped to see the page and Lion-O lowered it so they could read it.

"Hey, I've seen that one. It's got a sale sign in the window. It's two streets over." Kat and Kit tried to take off but Cheetara held on to Kit's jacket and Lion-O grabbed Kat's. Correcting themselves, the kids obediently took hold of the adults' paws, and settled for dragging them along.

The kittens were excited to be staying in Pantherle. Jaga heading back to Tretierra had been hard, but he had promised to return to finish training Cheetara, and for some reason it just didn't hurt as much. Jaga was never more than a phone call away, and he had pinky sworn to the kittens he would come visit often. He had little that could prevent it.

Unfortunately, finding a building for the kittens and Cheetara to make their new home was proving difficult. Most of the buildings that had what they needed were far into the city, or expensive, or falling apart. Cheetara was leery of buying anything that was very expensive – too many horror stories about foreclosures and interest rates with expensive buildings in the city – and this deeply limited the options.

Lion-O examined the building when they arrived. It was newer, made of smooth brick and set with clean windows in the front. It looked like it might have been a fashion shop before judging by its structure. He took one of the papers in the plastic sleeve attached to the front door. It was up to date on safety, it looked cleaner…Cheetara wanted to stay within thirty thousand dollars and this one was listed at fifty-five. Interest rates were nasty in the city even in tiny buildings, and Lion-O bit the inside of his cheek. Cheetara looked a little disappointed at the price as she looked at the paper. Kit poked her head out the door when she hesitated. "Come on, it's cool in here!"

The building was two floors, a compact little structure. In spite of the price, Cheetara looked over every room, every nook and cranny. And Lion-O, watching out of the corner of his eye, noticed that she really liked this one. It was clean and perfectly structured for what she wanted.

"There's enough room that we could set up the kennels. And the second floor would be perfect to live in…"

Lion-O gave her the page. She read through the information closely and sighed. "I'll call Jaga and see what he thinks. Thirty thousand is a great start."

But he knew that even if the down payment was much lower, just ten grand, that would be less money for them to live on until things were up and running. They would have to outfit the clinic with all the things a veterinarian would need. Lion-O would have readily given them any aid they wanted, but Cheetara felt guilty enough staying at his apartment for so long.

Even so, he held on to the paper craftily, concocting a plan in the back of his mind. Cheetara called the kittens over, letting Kit take her paw and spin under it. "This is one is nice Cheetara."

"Yes. We'll have to think about it though. I want to check out the rest of the buildings too," she said gently.

While they sought out the rest of the buildings Cheetara had found – it was a crisp, comfortable Saturday and it was easy to walk the streets together – Lion-O was perturbed at most of them for one reason or another. One of them had a nest of Spyderas in the ceiling, ones that looked suspiciously poisonous. Upon seeing the vibrant purple legs he'd herded the others out, called an inspection group, and moved them along. "Maybe we can check back after they get rid of the bugs," he said. Kit and Kat had both had green faces at the sight of the plate-sized creatures and even Cheetara looked a little faint.

"Never again," Kit declared.

The others did not have such dramatic issues. Some were run down, some were expensive. Cheetara's eyes kept straying to the list of increasingly marked addresses, fixing on the one building they had liked. Lion-O felt in his pocket for the folded real estate information.

By the end of the day they had tired feet and a couple of addresses. They returned to the apartment and Lion-O got some leftovers heated so they could all sit down and consider the options. Both kittens curled up on the couch and – after listening for a time to the grownups talk about bills and interest and location – dozed off with full bellies. Snarf had declined going with them in the first place, knowing that it would involve walking all day, but now he enjoyed the reward of the patient by wiggling in between Kat and Kit and napping with his feet up in the air.

"I just don't know. This one is so far out," Cheetara said. Her claw rested on the street name for one of the buildings Lion-O had personally hated. There had been a few crimes near that street including mugging and assault. This had been years ago but it still burned in his mind, and he was relieved when Cheetara decided against the place.

She put down the address sheet and leaned on his shoulder. She was tired, mane windblown after spending all day outside. Lion-O folded his arms around her and felt her torso relax against his. "I guess it's only been a few days since we started looking, but I'm a little discouraged. Maybe we're just too picky."

Lion-O rested his cheek on Cheetara's head. "You know…I could help."

Cheetara sighed.

"Really. Money isn't an object. I don't want it to be the reason you wouldn't get the place you want. The only place that seems great is this one."

"I know," Cheetara replied. "But I…I wouldn't be comfortable with that. That's so much money, and I just…"

She buried her face in his neck and breathed warmly against him. "I don't know. It's just such a big shift."

Lion-O left it alone, holding her side. After about twenty minutes her breathing deepened and he realized she had fallen asleep, jaw resting on the cotton of his sleeve. He took the opportunity to slip the folded page out of his jean pocket with his cell phone. He dialed the number listed and waited as the phone rang. He lowered his voice and she continued sleeping as the conversation began.

"Hello. I was calling about that property on Lawrence Street. Yes, I might be interested in buying."

* * *

><p>"You've got a spinny chair and you didn't bring us up here sooner?" Kat and Kit ran for it, trying to squeeze into it together. "Spin us, spin us! Puh-leeeze?"<p>

Lion-O moved it so it was in the middle of the room and spun them around. They laughed loudly, clinging to the armrests and hanging on to their tails to keep them from flying into each other's faces. "Cooool! And you put up all our pictures! This office is _awesome!_"

"I'm glad it lived up to your expectations," Lion-O said bemusedly. They had begged to see his office, and now they climbed dizzily out of his chair and rushed to the wall, pointing out their respective works.

Then Kit paused and tilted her head. "What's with the weird pattern on the wall?"

Lion-O tilted his head the same way. The lower part of the wall was black with red circles inside it, almost like polka dots. "What's so weird about it?"

"I dunno. I just think it's missing something." She lifted a brow archly. "Maybe I'll be an interior decorator someday. Can you only have one dream job?"

Cheetara had remained at the apartment, still looking for estates. The kittens had been restless and Lion-O taking them out so she could concentrate was much appreciated. _Kind of like they're our own kids,_ he realized. The thought warmed him and he shook his head. "You can have as many dream jobs as you want." A thought came to him and he added, "I know for a fact that Tygra's got the ones you made him up too." He smirked. "How about we go see?"

"Yeah!" Kit took the lead this time, skirt ruffling as she darted across the hall. Pumyra had been watching from her desk in silence and smirked as well.

"You do have a darker side."

He grinned. "Really?"

"Yes. It's as dark as vanilla."

Lion-O crossed the hall after them and found Tygra looking a little shocked, one kitten hanging on to his neck and laughing and the other plastered to the window, looking out over the view. "Tygra, Lion-O brought us to work so Cheetara could figure out some stuff! Hey, he was right; you _do _have our pictures up!" Kat went to look at them and Kit let Tygra tote her over, content to be carried to see the higher ones.

Tygra gave his brother a sardonic look. "Oh, he mentioned that to you?"

Lion-O waved. Kit rested her elbow on Tygra's shoulder, grinning. "We didn't know you'd put 'em up on the wall."

"Well…they're nice." They were strange compared to the barren desert scape, but Lion-O felt that they broke up the stiff office well.

The expression on the faces of the employees in the lobby had been priceless when Lion-O came in wearing a button-up shirt, a tie and gray slacks. He had left off his suit jacket and though he was still "dressy," it was the most casual he'd been in the building since coming in the day he'd gotten his stitches. Lion-O liked the feeling of not being pinned into a jacket.

Both kittens looked over the pieces thoughtfully and Kat said, "Hey Lion-O, can we see the picture of all of us that we made you?"

"Sure. It's right by the one of Jaga giving Snarf a bath." Kit was let down and followed her brother. Lion-O watched them go before looking at his brother, who watched the kittens with an uncharacteristic gentleness. "Did you call Tettigon?"

Tygra's attention flicked to him. "Yeah. She wants to meet with us so we can explain the situation, and then she'll need two months to examine Cheetara and the kittens."

"Still doing the same stuff twenty years later. She didn't sound angry did she?"

"No. She knows how difficult it can be. Particularly in Tretierra. If she approves Cheetara she'll figure something out." Tygra returned to his desk. "So. Did you…?"

"Yep. Going to show her tonight. She and the kittens have no idea." Lion-O noticed that Tygra just nodded and looked down. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Fine."

Lion-O left it alone. If Tygra didn't want to talk, he wouldn't make him. "All right. Thanks for helping." He went back to his office, aware that his brother was staring at the back of his head.

Kit and Kat were whispering to each other. "Lion-O, will you take down the picture for us?"

Lion-O looked at the portrait of their group. "Why?

"We've gotta revise. We want a picture that includes everyone." Lion-O took the picture off the wall and prized the frame apart, handing the kittens the page.

"You mean you want to add Panthro, Pumyra and Bengali?" He let them examine it and begin murmuring to each other.

"Yeah. Good thing there's still some room on the page, huh?" Kit looked around. "Do you have any crayons?"

"No, I don't think so." He looked at Pumyra who had opened the drawer of her desk and tossed a box to Kat. He raised one eyebrow.

"What?" she asked defensively. "Bengali's only twelve. Sometimes he doodles."

* * *

><p>"Where are we going <em>now<em>?"

Cheetara held on to Lion-O's arm, jogging across the street as the 'Walk' sign blinked off. It had been a good evening; the kittens were with Bengali under Pumyra's careful watch and this left them with a free evening. He took her to a pasta shop and they split a huge piece of cake for dessert. And then, instead of heading back to the apartment, Lion-O had led her…wherever they were heading. He smiled and halted on the sidewalk.

"We're here." Cheetara straightened her skirt and white, ruffled blouse and looked up.

She then gave him a confused glance. "The building? The expensive one?"

He gave her a mischievous look. "I want to take another look at it."

Cheetara looked over the clean walls and windows. Lion-O had been quiet during dinner, distracted, and now that they'd gotten here, he seemed excited about something. "Okay." But he went up to the door and opened it. "Lion-O, I don't know if we should look around at night…the open tours were only during the day."

"I get the feeling I can do what I want." This mysterious comment tugged at her, and Cheetara entered in front of him as he held the door for her.

She sighed, looking up. "It really would be a great building. Maybe I'll take out the loans after all. I mean it's so close and clean, and everything suits living and working in it. I just don't know about where we'd have the money to hire anyone or get X-ray machines and all the other things we'd need."

"Would you get this place though? If you had the money?" Lion-O took her paws and she tilted her head, considering his question.

"I don't have it though."

"But if you did?"

Cheetara lowered her eyelids and met his gaze through her eyelashes. "Yes…"

Lion-O was a little nervous as he took a page out of his pocket and handed it to her. Cheetara unfolded it and scanned the page. It was a copy of a page of a contract, and her eyes froze on one particular spot.

"You…you paid for it all? The whole thing?" she asked hoarsely. Lion-O scratched the back of his head.

"Look, at fifty-five thousand with a percentage rate like Pantherle's, you'd be paying on it for thirty years even if you put ten grand down. It was a lot cheaper to just buy it. It's what keeps Pantherle's real estate low, bad rates." He gave her a meek look. "Are you mad?"

Cheetara read the document again, nostrils flaring as she breathed out. "Not really. It's just…Lion-O. You sank that much money into a place that won't be able to repay you for a long time, and I-"

"Wait, wait. Who says you need to repay me?" Lion-O asked. Cheetara's cheeks reddened.

"Lion-O, I can't just _not_ pay you back. I owe you. This…this was very sweet, but…fifty-five thousand dollars." She was blushing for some reason and Lion-O wrapped his arms around her waist. "Most boyfriends just bring their girlfriends flowers."

"Cheetara, you've moved away from your home for me. You've taken care of me when I was hurt and being with you has been the best time of my life. I don't think _I _could ever repay _you_. Not with money or anything else. So please, don't worry about it." Giving her a shy smile, he rested his forehead against hers. "Just think of it as a payment for all the Snarf checkups I've had or will have. Because he really hates the other vet in town. You're the only one he tolerates."

She laughed softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I hope you're not going to make a habit of doing things like this behind my back," she said. "Because it really did upset me for a second there."

"Don't worry. From now on, this place is yours to do with as you please." He kissed her cheek. "Besides, now you can outfit the place however you need. And Snarf really does need a checkup; his claws are getting outrageous, and he tells me I'm horrible at cutting them."

Cheetara shook her head. "Well, when you put it that way…I just wish you would have told me what you were planning. I know you had the best intentions, but really."

"I'm sorry. I wanted to surprise you." Cheetara smirked. "I guess how I can see how that might have seemed kind of creepy…"

"If I didn't know you as well as I do. But since I do," she trailed off. Then she rested her chin on his shoulder and kissed his jaw. "Thank you. I'm grateful, just surprised."

"So you do like it?"

"Yes."

"And you forgive me for making you feel kind of awkward?"

"Yes."

Lion-O sighed into her mane and the place where his nose was warmed from his breath. "Good. Because telling the real estate guy I didn't want it after all would be kind of difficult."

Cheetara snorted a little and stole one more kiss to let him know all awkwardness was forgiven. It always would be when it came to them.

* * *

><p>"No way! We each get our own room?"<p>

Kat and Kit openly gawked at this. When Cheetara paused in loading the car long enough to nod, they cheered and started jumping around. Cheetara passed them, tugging at her shirt to cool herself, and they dashed after her, hopping back into the elevator. "Jaga brought our other stuff, right?"

"Right. Jaga's going to stay with us a couple of months to help us set up." Cheetara held the door so Lion-O could catch the elevator. There were a few more bags in his apartment, brought when Jaga had come down. He would bring the rest when he returned. Lion-O stretched his shoulders and Cheetara noticed his shirt riding up a little.

A week had flown by and Jaga had returned with their belongings, along with Panthro. Apparently dean Lynx-O had pulled a string or two and gotten another professor on board to handle the end of his class and with the final projects graded, Panthro had returned in good spirits. Cheetara ran a paw through her mane, considering. They had to clear Lion-O's apartment of their things, and then they would start moving in the machinery and furniture they needed. Thankfully they had Lion-O, Tygra, Panthro, Pumyra and Bengali to help.

Cheetara had come to realize that Pumyra was very glad of the kittens being around. Bengali now had two new friends that accepted him even with his strange brilliance, and were clever enough to keep up with him. There was no other reason she would have agreed to help them move, was there? She didn't seem to be particularly friendly in any regard.

Though she could lift as much as some men, Cheetara had to give her that. She brought out a couple of boxes that probably weighed forty pounds together and she did so without too much trouble. "Have the boys gotten the rest of the things over to the Lawrence building?" she asked.

"Panthro called and said they had. They're moving everything in." Cheetara took one of the boxes to ease her burden with some difficulty and the kittens and Lion-O went to get the rest of the cases.

_We're really moving in today._ Cheetara would miss being in Lion-O's apartment in a way, but it was definitely for the best that they were moving out; she'd walked in on him in the shower one morning, muddled and assuming it was Kit washing up. While this was not a traumatizing thing – she hadn't seen anything other than his back since he was behind the curtain – Lion-O had been embarrassed. And if they remained in his apartment much longer, people would notice and begin to talk. Lynxana hadn't reported on Lion-O "live in girlfriend" yet, and she hoped to move out before anyone picked up on it. Particularly when she really was only living there as opposed to anything else.

"That's the last of it." Lion-O carried down another box and Cheetara looked at his arms as he stood beside her in the elevator. He had on a t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and she let her gaze roll from his wrists to his shoulders appreciatively. His muscles were tensed as he held the weight, and in the past few weeks he'd been exercising and putting lost weight back on. The result was a hale, strong appearance and fur with pleasant luster. The door chimed and they headed out, loading up the trunk with the last of the luggage.

"Kat, Kit, hop in. Pumyra, are you driving separate?"

She nodded, so Cheetara took the passenger seat. Lion-O waited for Pumyra to cross the parking lot and get into her car before starting his own. Cheetara felt strange in the car with him as he drove, but it was a pleasant strange; it was nice to see passive Lion-O take so much into his own paws.

And it was nice to see his arms as he drove. That was a lesser reason.

The buildings and streets rolled by and Cheetara tried to memorize the signs and stores so she could recall them when she went out. This was going to be her home now after all. There was a warmth to the sidewalks and windows and the sun shone down. Cheetara felt as if Pantherle were welcoming them at long last to stay.

Panthro and Bengali were carrying in one of the examination tables when they arrived. Jaga was watching them as he carried a rather smaller box. Cheetara waved to him and he nodded, and she couldn't help but smile; he would be here for another month to make sure they were set up and she was fully trained. She got out of the car and the kittens followed, grabbing a few bags and lugging them through the door after the others.

Pumyra pulled up and parked on the street behind them. With her, Lion-O and the moving truck – filled with medical necessities for the new clinic – parked on the side of the road, it looked busy and was attracting the eyes of pedestrians as they passed by. Cheetara took more luggage and stepped through the doorway.

What had been empty and clean had transformed into a box-filled room littered with furniture. It smelled slightly of paint but that would be fixed as they moved in and vacuumed and swept. Cheetara looked in on the examination rooms – there would be three – and her stomach rolled in excitement. The counters and tables within were new, bought with the savings they'd had. Lion-O buying the place had made this possible; they would have a clean, beautiful new clinic as she'd dreamt of and she hurried back out to the street. The sooner they got everything in, the sooner they'd be able to unpack.

The sidewalk was warm under her feet, and Cheetara took a box out of Pumyra's car. But before she headed back in she happened to look up the road and paused.

There was a Katyda on the sidewalk being pestered. They were rare in Pantherle and up north – preferring slightly more temperate weather – but there was a small community of them in the suburbs from what she'd read. Similar to bugs save for their size and intelligence, they tended to be quiet, and she had only ever seen them in pictures.

She was only about two feet tall. Katydas didn't have insect features to the point of being grotesque, rather having big dark eyes and sweet little mouths in impish faces. She was skinny and her green exoskeleton was shiny and clean. Rather than a mane, Katydas had two long antennas on their head. This one wore hers in a pink bow.

And there were a couple of cats in the road that kept nudging her and their faces looked smarmy. One was brown and red and the other pale yellow, teenagers from the looks of things. Cheetara put down the box and jogged down that way, aware that Lion-O had spotted the situation as well and that his claws were the ones following.

"…I was merely wanting to know if this was Lawrence Street. I'm not familiar with the area." The Katyda had a soft, chirpy voice and Cheetara couldn't gauge how old she was; Katydas often appeared young very late into life. But she was so tiny that Cheetara wondered how such a little thing got around in a big city.

She couldn't hear the cats' responses but the Katyda grew rigid and said clearly, "That is a stereotype, and it is not true in my case."

"Excuse me." Cheetara raised her voice and the cats and Katyda looked at her. "Miss, you're on Lawrence Street. Did you need help finding something?" She gave the cats an even look when they scowled – she heard Lion-O behind her and they were smaller than him – and slouched off. The Katyda watched them go and smiled at her.

"I just needed to know where I was. Thank you." She looked at the building, noting all the boxes and cars around it. "My, are you moving in? That building has been for sale for a while now."

"Yes, actually." Lion-O drew up a little closer and Cheetara knelt so she would be at about eye level with the smaller female. "I'm sorry they were giving you a hard time. Some people are so rude. I'm Cheetara."

"Oh, not at all. It wasn't your fault." The Katyda bowed and her coat – a long black trench coat that reached from her neck to her ankles, leaving her twig-thin, dainty fingers free – folded neatly at the waist. "I'm Tettigon. Pleased to make your acquaintance." She looked up and Cheetara turned her head to see Lion-O kneeling as well. "I've seen your face on the television, Mr. Rey. I don't think I've had the pleasure of meeting you personally."

"Hi there." He said this almost with familiarity, and extended an index finger so Tettigon could shake it.

"Hey, cool! A Katyda! Bengali, look!" Kat and Kit had spotted her and approached quickly, gazing at her with friendly eyes. "Aw, you're cute!" Kit exclaimed.

Cheetara blushed and Tettigon smiled. "Excuse them. They're always excited to meet new people, and they've never met Katydas." Kit meekly tucked herself behind Lion-O when Cheetara shook her head.

"I'm used to it. We're pretty rare in these areas." She shook the fingers of the kittens as well. "Ah, Tygra is here as well. Good. Just the cat I was looking for." Tettigon strode toward him, past Bengali, who stared down at her in fascination.

To Cheetara's surprise, Tygra grinned and greeted her. Lion-O spotted her surprise and said, "They go way back. I'm pretty sure she's his only non-feline friend."

"That's nice. Why was she looking for him?" she asked. Lion-O shrugged but he didn't quite meet her eye. The kittens returned to the building and she followed them, hoping to catch Panthro and ask for his help assembling the kitchen table; they needed to see if it would fit.

Lion-O made sure Cheetara was inside before turning to Tettigon, who had hugged Tygra around the neck. "It's good to see you're well, sweetie. Especially after Claudus' passing," she said lowly. Her narrow, clever face inclined towards him as he drew near. "I got here as quickly as I could. I take it those are the kittens?"

"Yeah, Kat and Kit. I don't any trouble for them; they were just scared of being separated, and Cheetara and Jaga are some of the kindest people in the world. They've taken great care of those kids."

"I can vouch for them as well," Tygra added. Tettigon put her paws on her hips.

"How has their education been carried out?"

"Homeschooling," Lion-O said. "They've read _The Hobbit_ last I checked."

"Health?"

"Jaga's a doctor and a vet and everything you can imagine. They haven't been sick a day I've known them, but Jaga would definitely take them to a hospital if he thought they needed it. Home-cooked meals most nights and they're playful and happy." Lion-O was being fully honest, even though he knew it probably sounded rehearsed. He knew no one else that loved kittens so much.

She watched them bound out the door, getting more boxes and heading back in. "It's silly to ask I'm sure, but abuse…?"

"Jaga and Cheetara have taken the best care of them. They talk to them if they get disciplined, and…well, just look at them." They waited a few moments for Cheetara to come back out with the kittens. They stayed close to her sides, tails loosely happy and content. "Cheetara would cut her own paw off before hurting those kittens, and Jaga's the same way."

Tettigon nodded slowly, touching her chin. "I'll take all this into consideration. We've had stranger situations. I will have to monitor them for a few weeks, you understand. Nothing like witnessing such things personally."

"I understand. And all of us love those kids. If we didn't think this was best for them, we'd say something," Lion-O said quietly. Tygra let Tettigon hop onto his shoulder.

"I'd like to know," she said tentatively. "Have they said anything about parents or relatives? Do you notice any signs of past abuse? Are they emotionally sound?"

Tygra cocked his head, letting her rest her elbow on his mane. "I think so. They're afraid of being separated, but that's normal if they've lost their parents. We think they're dead, but the kittens just don't talk about it. You could probably find out what happened with your resources."

"I intend to. They seem very happy. Perfectly bright children. But we'll see." She let Tygra help her down. "I'll be in touch. Don't let on about it. I'll do what I can to help."

"Thank Tetti. It means a lot," Tygra said. She waved and slipped off down the sidewalk, looking at the address carefully before she vanished from sight. Lion-O gave his brother a sidelong look. "What?"

"I just think it's strange that you don't like other species much but you're really fond of Tettigon. You've been friends with her since you could talk."

Tygra shrugged, tugging the front of his shirt so it let cool air in. "She's an exception. It's not every person that gets a Sieger tiger adopted by a Rey lion. If anybody can get it so Cheetara can adopt them officially, it's Tettigon. All we can do is wait and help her in any way we can."

* * *

><p>Pumyra ached.<p>

She was no lightweight. But hauling and lifting and sorting and placing for ten hours was enough to wear anyone out, and her paws kept drifting to her arms to rub her shoulders and biceps, easing the raw sensation. Bengali was sore too, but he tried not to complain. Pumyra sent him to bed early and, as she usually did, talked with him as he lay in bed. Sometimes she told him stories; sometimes she hummed. This time she gave him a gentle back rub because his shoulders hurt and he was out like a light.

It didn't feel as nice to rub her own legs and back, but it was something. Scanning the shelves, she spotted what she was looking for and took a box of patches that started cold and ended warm. They would help her and Bengali tomorrow, along with some heating pads. She spotted Bengali's favorite candy – chocolate kisses – and picked up a bag. The drugstore had everything, and she preferred it to the grocery store. It was quieter.

Pumyra hated leaving Bengali alone at night, but she had told the lady in the apartment next to her that she would return in thirty minutes, and she'd agreed to keep an ear out for Bengali. She'd left him a note in case he woke up, and she'd locked the door, and of course no one could come in the window since they were on the fourth floor…

Her fingers came to rest against her forehead. She really needed to stop worrying incessantly about him. She picked up a packet of soothing tea on her way to the register. Sometimes it helped and sometimes it didn't.

In spite of the discomfort, Pumyra found that moving the Cleras in was worth the trouble; Cheetara was a little willowy and passive for her taste in company, but she was kind enough and had been sincerely thankful for the help. Not to mention she made Lion-O happy, and that meant that he did better at the office, which was good for all parties involved. A depressed CEO was a wet blanket.

It was really the kittens that please her. Bengali had made friends for the first time, in spite of their age differences. Pumyra had worried for years that he would end up a recluse because of his unusual ways, but Kat and Kit seemed to love everyone. They didn't care that he towered over them or that he loved comic heroes and math. He had been accepted into their partnership and his happiness with their new friends was absolutely wonderful.

She grunted and coughed, throat aching a little. Pumyra wasn't the sentimental type, but Bengali was so sweet it was hard not to be glad for him.

The evening had faded into deep, velvety night, and the drive home was quiet. The lights to her apartment building welcomed her, and she trailed up the stairs with her purchases in one bag. Her door creaked when she went in, and her slight paranoia made her listen for anything amiss. Everything was in place, and she peeked into Bengali's room to find him still curled safely under the covers. She set the bag of candy on his bedside stand – complete with Superman clock – and took the note back. Daring to smooth his mane once, Pumyra planted a kiss on his temple and went to her own room. There she shucked off her day clothes and put on her pajamas; baggy pajama bottoms and an even baggier t-shirt.

The prim office woman stopped at home. She climbed into bed and slept for several hours.

She ached even worse when she woke up, but her head was no longer tired and heady. Her clock said it was six in the morning, and Pumyra rolled over, feet hitting the floor. She'd set it early so she could go into the office and get a few things done. The building was open on Sundays but she worked Monday to Friday usually. Still, she had a few messages to send, and it was just as easy to go in and do it this morning.

She brushed out her mane, brushed her teeth, put on a blouse, skirt and jacket, and checked on Bengali one more time before setting out, leaving him another note on the fridge. Sticky notes were her best friend; Pumyra forbade Bengali from eating only chocolate for breakfast and told him she'd be back by nine.

The office felt best when it was quiet and dawn sunlight was starting to touch the tops of the skyscrapers. Only a few people wandered the lobby and none of them said anything to her, leaving her free to enter the elevator. Once inside she winced and bent, feeling her back pop. "Good grief," she muttered. Pumyra straightened and watched the numbers slowly increase.

The door opened with a chime and she entered the office and drew up short. Somebody was in here.

She prowled cautiously around the desk and spotted a striped cat lying on the couch that had been brought in for guests – namely Bengali – to rest on. Blinking, Pumyra looked around, wondering why Tygra was here at this hour, and why he was asleep.

Lion-O's computer was on, and she recognized most of the files. Perhaps Tygra was doing a little work early in the morning as well? He was wearing jeans and a college sweatshirt; he'd run out here quickly.

Pumyra looked over the open document on the computer. Somebody had sent an e-mail asking about Thundrillium and possible internships at Thunder Enterprises from Tygus Unviersity. That made sense; he was attached to his school, and most of the information he needed was on Lion-O's computer. Naturally Lion-O would have told him the password if he'd asked. He had likely gone to sit on the little sofa for a minute and just fallen asleep. She listened for a minute and smirked. He snored quietly, and he curled up when he slept. A picture or two of him like this could be potentially embarrassing. She shook her head.

It would be easy to finish the file. It was a few more pages of information and she had done enough messages to know how to do this one. She slipped off her suit jacket and placed it on the back of the chair and sat down. The faint clicking of the keyboard didn't seem to disturb the tiger, although she noticed it was chilly.

Tygra seemed to sigh and curled in a little tighter, head rest on one elbow and the other pinned close to his stomach. She glanced at him and considered her action for a long minute. Then – not entirely sure why she did it – she slipped off her jacket, stepped over to him, and draped it over his shoulders and back. He must have been more comfortable, for when she turned away she heard a faint rumbling and realized he was purring.

She glanced back at him and stared. Tygra sounded like an overgrown cub and curled up under the jacket he looked…

Just a little bit – a _very _tiny bit – cute.

Just a little. That was all.

Pumyra's nostrils flared. She sat down at the desk and proceeded to type, trying not to steal glances at him when he stretched and talked in his sleep.

Pumyra had to admit that there was something that attracted her to Tygra. She would never say she had a crush, but when he had done something really selfless for the first time, Pumyra could not deny that her heart – usually so cool and repellant – had softened. It had been so bizarre to see a side of Tygra that was concerned, almost caring.

Almost a little brave. She hadn't expected something noble out of him. And she wasn't inclined to judge him for his general lack of nobility; she was the same way. Practicality was more important to her, and ends justified means. So she wasn't sure _what _it was.

Well, his body was impressive, she reasoned. She had seen a fair amount of it at the gum, and she didn't dislike what she saw. Perhaps it was just a biological attraction. Yes, that was more likely. And he wasn't a complete jerk, so he had something likable to his personality.

It had better not be anything else, she decided. Because work would be very difficult if she ended up getting a crush on one of her bosses. It just wasn't professional.

She glanced at him and then jerked her head back to the computer screen. She had sworn to herself that, as a secretary, it wasn't her job to do it. He'd need it no doubt, having been here until dawn, but there was no way she was going to fulfill that stereotype.

Pumyra's eyes were slowly drawn back and she looked at Tygra's face. He muttered something about Snarfs and nuzzled his elbow. He would have to be heading out soon; he'd promised to take the kittens to a museum this morning. Granted it was a museum for kids that had things like the oldest video games and the development of toys over millennia, but it was still a museum. Keeping up with those balls of energy would require help.

She muttered something and slid the chair back, getting up and walking to the elevator. One break room was three floors down, and it had a coffee machine.

She'd bring him coffee. Just this once.

* * *

><p>Monday evening meetings had never been so exciting.<p>

Lion-O's looked out over the board in front of him. All eyes were on him with rapt attention and dark, official suits. Concolo, Palustri, Tygra and Panthro were closest, and Pumyra lurked in the doorway. The room seemed smaller than it used to, less frightening.

"Thanks for coming guys. I know it's been kind of hectic lately with everything that's been going on, but I wanted to update everyone on a couple things coming up."

He paced and their eyes followed. Lion-O heard the door and as his chin lifted, the rest of the room looked back toward it. The kittens waved and he waved back.

"Guys, one sec."

"Oops. Sorry." Kit dragged her brother back out the door and shut it. Lion-O smiled; something like that would have shattered his concentration before, but now it was easy to deal with.

"First of all, we're about two months away from finishing our final generator model. Panthro Fides has been working like crazy the past few weeks to finish the semester at Ome North University, and we owe him a lot of gratitude for everything he's done." He nodded at Panthro and Panthro rolled his eyes.

"A big, belated thanks to Tygra and Concolo for running things while I was recovering. And Pumyra deserves thanks too for keeping Tygra sane and going above and beyond the call of duty to deal with phone calls and questions." Tygra nodded uneasily and Pumyra smirked.

Lion-O had a few papers resting on the table in front of him. He passed them around the table so everyone could read along. "These are some of the changes that are going to happen. We're dedicating forty percent of the company to energy now, and that may increase as time goes on, but we won't give up on creating software for at least the next twenty years. That means at least ten percent of the company will still be dedicated to software design. This does mean we're going to have to alter the structure of Thunder Enterprises, and some jobs are going to be swapped out. However, we're already communicating with some other businesses we're on good terms with, and we should be able to find everyone that's being laid off employment somewhere close."

He didn't like that people might lose their jobs, but he had one more bit to say. "Also, if anyone wants to stay here and join on with the energy studies, we're going to offer financial aid to take several courses on the subject matter so we can retain as many employees as we can. A lot of them have been with us for a long time, and we care about that kind of commitment. We'll go the extra mile to help them stay here if that's what they want."

All the members nodded in agreement. "You've all heard about the finances, but we've settled on our budgets. Palustri, what are the latest numbers?"

He lifted one of his pages. "If Thundrillium is responded to and people are willing to shift away from oil, coal and other alternatives, we could see five billion dollars in revenue in the next five years alone. These are at the prices you recommended, slightly lower than what we were estimating before."

"Right. The increased demand due to our affordability will help offset that, and it will encourage people to get away from expensive alternatives. Oil companies are already wanting stock and taking part in the business because they know that Thundrillium is going to replace them if things keep going the way they are." Lion-O shifted his Transformers watch and rubbed the line in his fur where it rested. "If there are any questions during the week, let me know. We'll be having to adjust a lot coming up, but I feel like it's going to be a great adjustment. More company growth means we can employ more people and make an even bigger success of this place, just like the predecessors would want."

He glanced down at the ring on his finger. It was dark red in the soft orange light of the setting sun and seemed lit from within, as if a live coal were in the gem. "It might be a little different from what they expected," he admitted. "But I think this is the right direction."

Lion-O then lifted his head. "Well, that's all. I just wanted to update you guys on a couple of things. Let's head out; it's been a long Monday."

With this dismissal the members stood up, bidding him farewell and sighing with some tired relief. Kat and Kit entered the room, squeezing between cats and running up to Lion-O. Kat was carrying a large paper and Kit held a folder, both grinning.

"We finished revising." Kat flipped the paper over and showed it off and Lion-O applauded.

"Very nice…there's Panthro, Kit, Cheetara, me, Snarf, Tygra, Pumyra, Kat, Jaga and Bengali. Very nice." The piece had been painstakingly edited and carried without being folded. They had signed it at the top and he laughed. "Did Snarf help draw it? His paw print is up there."

"He helped us find the right crayons. He's good at color coordination," Kit said brightly. Tygra praised them for the picture, and Kit said, "We'll draw a copy for you too Tygra. And then one for Cheetara and the Pantherle Veterinary Clinic, and then Panthro's house, and Tretierra Veterinary Clinic-"

Kat elbowed her. "Hey, show him what else we did." He pointed to one of the red circles on the wall. "We think the wall is really boring," he said emphatically. "The big red dot needs to be fixed. It's like a bunch of big polka dots."

Kit held out her folder and Lion-O opened it, scanning the images. "What are these?"

"They're ideas for what you could put in the big red circles. Something cool. Bengali helped us with some of them." Kit scuffed her foot on the floor. "If you wanna, I mean. We just thought it would be all…y'know. Dramatic and tough. And not boring."

"I see. That's nice, but I don't know if…" he trailed off. Examining one more closely, he held it up. "Huh. Y'know, this one's pretty cool. Look guys."

Lion-O moved the page so the others could see it. Everyone remaining crowded around his side of the table to get a glimpse.

Tygra eyed the logo. "…I have to admit, I like it."

"We think it's cool. It's all like, 'Roar! We're tough! Gr!'" Kat said. Panthro cocked his head, leaning on the table as he looked it over.

"What is it? I like it, but it's kind of ambiguous."

Kit shrugged. "It's just a big monster cat. We thought it looked neat."

Lion-O looked around the room. "I could see that actually. It would look kind of impressive here. It could even be our market logo…we've just got the words 'Thunder Enterprises' right now."

Kat and Kit beamed at each other. "Really? Cool! Bengali helped with that one too!"

Tygra checked his watch. "We can get it approved tomorrow. I'm hungry right now. Have you guys eaten yet?"

"Nope," they said together. "Cheetara's waiting in the lobby with Jaga; we wanted you guys to eat with us for the first time in the Pantherle Veterinary Clinic!" They took Panthro's paws and started dancing around him, much to his chagrin, making him turn with them. "We're all set up now. We've gotta get Snarf and Bengali and then we'll show you guys what it looks like. It's sooo cool. I've got a pirate, adventure room," Kat said.

"And I've got music and ballerinas and animals in mine," Kit said, not to be outdone. Panthro just rotated in place, and Pumyra came and took the kittens off his paws.

"Bengali's in the research building helping out. We'll get him and I guess pick up Snarf," she said, lifting her head questioningly. Lion-O nodded.

"Yeah. Just let me put my files back up in my office." He took the pages, including the "family portrait" and the designs, and headed out. He heard Tygra talking to the kittens as he entered the elevator and rode it up to his office.

There was nobody up there, and the sun stained everything red through the windows. The city was beautiful with the glass reflecting hot, glaring lights and muddled shadows. He stacked the pages neatly and took the colored picture out and found its frame, sliding it in.

How close he'd become to so many of them. A year and a half had changed so much, brought so much happiness and pain. Weighing both, he found that the happiness was the greater of the two. Lion-O hung the picture up and smiled when he saw the kittens had drawn them holding paws.

There was no telling what the future held. Mumm-Ra wasn't finished, and it was doubtful that the problems were over. But even so, with all of them here, the problems seemed light and so much smaller than they were before. Lion-O was confident now, confident in his choices.

Confident in himself. He owed Cheetara that, and the kittens and Panthro and Jaga. And Bengali and Pumyra and Snarf. And even, in some strange, almost unwilling way, even Tygra had contributed help at the most surprising moment.

_We did this together._

And they would face the rest together. He was sure of that.

Lion-O placed the page on his desk. Tettigon said things were going well, and she was going to approach Cheetara soon to tell her how to formally adopt the kittens. They would never have to worry about being separated again.

Tonight they would have yet another family dinner together. Tygra and he would probably snipe but not the way they always had before; just a little less, a little softer. Pumyra would make sure Bengali ate vegetables and Panthro would probably shove his around the plate and onto Snarf's when no one was looking Cheetara would have her mane loose because she would have tied it back while she cooked and she liked the feeling of letting it down. It would smell like new house and feel like new beginnings. It would taste like fun and sound like laughing kittens.

And it would look like home, and family.

Lion-O left the design on his desk. He headed out the same way he always had, the way Dad had; out the elevator, out the front door, and to the car that he would drive home in order to pick up Snarf. But it was his path now. It wasn't Dad's path he was walking in and he wasn't following orders and the agendas of others.

This was his. He was making a new path, and the world was full of new and wonderful things. And he loved them all.

His office was quiet when he left. But even in the silence and serene redness, even on a thin sheet of paper, painstakingly drawn by kitten paws, the side profile of a roaring black cat against a red circle stood out bold as a new footprint.

_The End_


End file.
